I Do Not Want This
by ImKim
Summary: An accident leads to a discovery, a discovery that neither Harry Potter nor Professor Severus Snape can abide.  Now they have to live in the same castle knowing what they know.  Each of them has friends who think they should give their relationship a chance.  Friends really should mind their own business.
1. The Accident

**Hello Friends. Tabbybri and I (daughter and mother), began writing this story some time ago with all sorts of good intentions. Trouble is, we bit off more than the story could chew. Over the months since we last updated we've discussed it often, wanting to put up the next chapter ASAP. But we couldn't manage to fit all the different growing plot lines into the story in a coherent way. It's been obvious for a while now that we needed to change some of the major elements of the story. Tonight, we bit the bullet and began an extensive rewrite. The basic elements will remain the same, but the side stories will be changed in order to help us focus on what's important. We hope you like the new and improved version and we respectfully request (beg) that you review to let us know if we're on the right track. Thank you for your understanding. And now on to our story.**

Hot. Hot. Hot. It was only June and it was already stinking hot. It wouldn't matter if going outside to say, ride a bike were an option. But Harry Potter didn't have a bike and didn't have permission to go outside. So it was hot. Dudley was outside, of course. Probably beating up some little kid who also had permission to go outside.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored enough to do schoolwork. But no, Harry Potter couldn't do schoolwork. Not allowed in the proper Dursley household. OK, doing schoolwork to relieve boredom might be going a bit too far. It was still June and Harry wasn't that desperate quite yet. Ron would understand. Maybe Ron was as miserably bored, too. And hot.

No. Ron likely wasn't bored and hot. Ron had a great family to do lots of great things with outside on great land with lots of great shade trees. Well, there was Percy, but everyone had a black sheep. Or was Percy a white sheep? Did it matter when it was so hot?

Hungry. Harry added hungry to the list. Was it going to be lunchtime any time soon? Ron would just go to the fridge and get a snack, but no, Harry couldn't go to the fridge to get a snack. Harry was stuck in his room. Stuck in his room where he was hot, bored and hungry. Weren't the hols supposed to be fun?

So he'd mouthed off to Dudley. Dudley was a great big oaf who'd deserved a great big mouthing off. If Harry were at Hogwarts he'd be able to tell someone off for punching him in the face. Well, unless certain professors were around, then the offending kid would likely be given a free shot as consolation for hurting his fist on Harry's face.

Hot. Bored. Hungry. HEDWIG! He'd bother Hedwig. She'd welcome some attention.

"Hedwig... Hedwig?"

The snowy owl opened an amber eye half-way and regarded him sleepily, then with a muffled hoot, she ducked her head back under her wing.

OK, maybe not. Owls tended to want to sleep on hot summer days. Go figure. Well fine, if she comes looking for attention during the night when she bothers herself to wake up, well, he just might not bother himself to wake up. So there.

Actually, realizing that you're plotting revenge on your nocturnal familiar for wanting to sleep on a hot summer day was enough to knock you straight out of self-pity mode.

So, action. Action would help. It might stir some of the air in here, get it moving, make it cooler.

Cleaning the room might help, but really, it wasn't all that bad. Some socks over there, a wet towel over there-that was pretty much it. Might as well leave the towel there, since he wasn't allowed out of his room to put it in the towel hamper. OK, socks are in the bag.

Now what? Cleaning Hedwig's cage while she rests is definitely out.

Deciding he was already being a nicer guy, Harry nodded, satisfied. Action did help.

Someone was coming upstairs. Maybe it was lunch time? According to the clock it was a bit early but not too much. The footsteps were Aunt Petunia's and next came the hoped for rapping at the door. "Dress decently. We're going out in half an hour," his aunt called, her tone short, as always, when she addressed Harry.

Out? YES! We're going out! Harry punched the air with enthusiasm.

Uncle Vernon had been home from work this week. He'd taken a week's vacation and the family had been going out somewhere almost every day. Until now, they'd not taken Harry along. This time, though, it seemed he was invited. With Dudley along, there would surely be food. In a car, there would be air conditioning. At the destination, there might be fun! The day was certainly looking up.

Dudley came roaring into the house; and as he pounded up the stairs, his mother rushed behind him offering suggestions on which cute outfit he should wear for their outing. Harry shook his head. When would his aunt allow his cousin to grow up?

A few minutes later they were all in the car and Dudley was whining to his parents about Harry being allowed to come along.

"We had no choice, Duddy, the Albertsons invited us to this festival and were clear that they expected we'd have the boy with us." Aunt Petunia sweet talked to Dudley, as she always did when he didn't get his way.

That was interesting. The Albertsons had been dinner guests of the Dursleys' the night after Harry had returned to Privet Drive from his third year at Hogwarts. They'd arrived early and so the Dursleys' hadn't had a chance to hide Harry away. He'd been introduced and allowed to eat dinner with them that night. The Albertsons had seemed to like Harry and had asked a lot of questions about school. It had been a difficult conversation because most of Hogwarts' classes couldn't be translated easily into matching Muggle classes, but Harry felt he'd done a fair job of it.

Now the Albertsons were apparently going to a fair and they had a daughter the same age as Dudley and Harry. To give her someone to hang out with, the Dursleys had been invited to join them, and Harry was included in the invitation.

"Their account is important to Daddy, Dudders. We have no choice but to bring Harry along. But I promise," she simpered, "we'll make it up to you tomorrow. Maybe we'll go shopping for a new sword for your fine collection. There's a space on the wall right next to your computer desk where a beautiful new sword and scabbard would look just right. Then we'll have dinner out. We'll make a day of it. _He_ will stay home and prune the rose bushes."

Placated, Dudley sat back and gave Harry a smug look.

And that was how Harry had been allowed to go along on a family day trip.

Dudley was soon bored with the drive and his favorite victim was only inches away. This wasn't going to turn out well. Dudley had recently been given a game system with a guitar that could be attached and a game that you used with the guitar. Harry didn't know anything more about it than that. What he did know was that if the sounds Dudley produced with that guitar were part of that game, he wasn't sorry he didn't have one for himself.

Dudley mimed pulling out his guitar and proceeded to vigorously gyrate in the backseat, playing his air guitar and singing loudly. Some people should not sing out loud in public. Dudley was one of them. He made sure to invade Harry's side of the car frequently with his wild gyrations.

The second time Dudley's arm whacked Harry in the face, Harry again forgot that he wasn't allowed to yell at Dudley. "Dudley, you buffoon!" Ut Oh. You'd think he'd remember after the last rather forceful reminder. But no, fresh from school where he was an equal with hundreds of other students, he tended to forget himself in the first weeks at Privet Drive. His place in this family was not that of an equal, nor even a guest. It was that of an unwanted, unloved, unpleasant slug type creature from some bog somewhere. And now he was in trouble again.

Dudley wailed to his father as he smirked at Harry. Purple with rage that Harry would dare shout at Dudley twice within days, Uncle Vernon turned right around in his seat and aimed a fist at Harry's head. Harry easily dodged the large man's lame attempt at an attack, which angered the man even more. Everyone stiffened when Aunt Petunia, her voice sharp with sudden panic, yelled "VERNON!" Uncle Vernon whipped back around, grabbed the wheel with both hands and tried to correct their course.

In the moments following Aunt Petunia's shriek, life seemed to proceed in a slow motion blur. There was the screech of tires trying and failing to find traction; the car seemed to spin completely around; there was a blare of horns, blending with the screams of the Dursleys, the combined sounds piercing through Harry's head louder than any Howler; Harry's own voice seemed to have quite deserted him, and his breath had hitched in his chest; then a very loud crack… and then nothing.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

When Harry next came to, there were voices fading in and out and a lot of lights of different colors, pulsing, flaring, and flashing around him. Red was chief among them. _At least it isn't green_, Harry thought, before darkness claimed him again.

"Ah, you're awake!" A cheerful female voice penetrated the fog in Harry's brain. "You've been out for several days. We were hoping you'd wake soon."

Days? Out of what? Huh? Harry's brain seemed to want to start working but it hadn't yet bothered to connected itself to his mouth. He just stared blankly at the woman with the colourful blobs on her shirt. As she slipped his glasses on his head he could see they were Sesame Street characters. Why was an adult wearing a Muggle child's cartoon on her shirt? "Are you a Muggle?" was, unfortunately, the first thing his brain sent to his mouth.

"Muggle? Is that a new term for nurse?"

Right, this was a nurse. She was tall and thin and had long blond hair. Not Malfoy blond, but a golden blond. She had a pretty smile with a small space between her top front teeth, the only thing that was a tiny bit less than perfect about her looks. He'd be willing to bet she had a big fan club among male patients.

"Oh, um, yes, it is."

"Well then yes, I'm a Muggle," the nurse said, her smile widening briefly.

Harry groaned. He was obviously in hospital and without even working at it he'd stuck his foot in his mouth right away. If someone up there was keeping count, this summer's ledger was going to number several volumes.

As his brain figured itself out, more information came trickling in. A certain amount of soreness, especially on his right side and midsection, made itself known. His right leg seemed to be in a cast. There was what he believed to be called an IV running into his left arm and his right arm was covered in stark white bandages.

Great. Wand arm.

The Dursleys! The memory that they had been in the car as well struck Harry. "Ma'am, my family..." he said, trying to push himself up into a sitting position. The movement made him gasp with pain, and the nurse put a hand to his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down.

"Don't worry, your aunt and uncle are fine and your cousin is recovering nicely," she said soothingly.

"Dudley's recovering? Is he badly hurt?"

"Apparently your family's car spun around in traffic and was hit from behind by an oncoming car in the opposite lane. You and your cousin were both hurt but your aunt and uncle were not. Your cousin is going to be fine. He has a back injury but his prognosis is good."

A back injury didn't sound fine at all, but a good prognosis appeared to mean his cousin had a good chance of recovering, so that was better.

If only he hadn't yelled at Dudley. He knew better! Wasn't he already being punished for just such an offense? And now look what happened. Uncle Vernon's hatred for him often made him blind to his surroundings and it was pretty stupid to make him that angry while he was driving the car. Fear and guilt gripped Harry, putting a lump in his throat.

What had he been thinking! Harry knew how to keep his head low. He knew how to restrain himself when he was around the Dursleys. He understood that he was a second class citizen among them, and that behaving as if he was one of them came with consequences. Why could he never remember that when returning from the real world?

At least Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia weren't hurt. Harry couldn't have born it if he'd been even part of the cause of Dudley being orphaned. He may not have liked his cousin, but being an orphan was something he wouldn't wish on anyone, even Dudley.

Right now what was important though, was that it seemed as if his body were being held together by bright white bandages. He suppressed an urge to giggle at the thought of unwrapping himself and dropping a trail of body parts behind him. The urge to giggle was stronger than it should have been, making him assume he'd been drugged with some pretty strong pain killers. Still, it was pretty funny.

"Ma'am?" he managed, stifling the strange hilarity with difficulty. "Can you tell me what's wrong with me, please?"

The sweet nurse smiled encouragingly at Harry. "Your doctor will be here in a few minutes and she'll explain all of that to you, then. Okay, Sweetie?"

Normally he might have protested being called 'Sweetie' on the grounds that he was fourteen years old… much too old for such a term, an endearment that was fit for kids maybe ten and younger. But Harry's mind was still too foggy for him to be able to voice his thoughts, and so he just nodded. No sooner had he done so then a wave of overwhelming exhaustion coursed through him, and then another. He gave in as yet another strong wave made his eyelids impossibly heavy, and fell into a deep sleep.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

"Harry? Harry?" A gentle nudge to his shoulder brought him to wakefulness again. It was a very pretty lady with jet-black hair and a wide, beautiful smile. "I'm Dr. Kagan Lorrie and I've come to have a chat with you about your injuries and treatments." Harry thought that if she continued to smile at him like that, he'd do pretty much anything for her. She looked like someone who would never lock a kid in a cupboard. She would make sure all children got enough to eat. And with her smile, you'd always know you were loved. Harry beamed at her.

Dr. Lorrie sat in a chair next to Harry's bed and put her hand over his. "As I believe Nurse Ryan mentioned, you've been in an accident. You were hurt pretty badly in some places. When you arrived here you had a broken leg, lacerations on your arm, and had received a heavy blow to your belly.

"We set your leg, bandaged your arm, and we had to operate on your belly. There were several tears inside you but we stopped the bleeding and you should heal up nicely," the doctor gently explained.

"Now, I'm here alone because I have some questions for you that probably shouldn't be asked in public. Nurse Ryan told me that nurses are now called 'Muggles'. She loves the word and has been spreading it to all the other nurses. I thought that was probably a bad idea. I'm afraid I told her that you must have been mistaken when you called her that because I'd heard it was a derogatory term."

Harry's heart was racing. He'd really done it this time. Would they snap his wand and send him back to the Dursleys for using Wizarding terms around Muggles? But he couldn't go to the Dursleys, could he? The Dursleys likely hated him more now than ever.

The pretty doctor correctly identified Harry's expression. "No Harry, really, you've done nothing wrong. I didn't mean to give you that impression," she quickly assured him. "Nurse Ryan agreed to tell everyone so they'd stop using the term.

"The reason I brought this up is that when I heard the word 'Muggle", I asked to be put on as your primary doctor. When I operated on you, I wasn't looking at your face. When I heard your name though, I immediately recognized you, of course. I'm magical, as well. I don't practice magical medicine; my father attended Durmstrang and hated it there. My mother was educated by her own mother and grandmother. When I was born, my dad refused to let me let me attend a magical institution. I've never had a formal magical education, but my parents did what they could to help me learn as much as possible at home. They're from a very old family that practices a rather old and somewhat outdated school of magic. I think it's lovely and it works for me, so I'm OK with how things turned out. And that brings me to another point. As good as I am at my job; I know that more can be done for you by Magical Healers. Am I right?"

Harry nodded. He had first-hand knowledge of how well Madame Pomfrey could treat serious injuries. But he couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed that this nice doctor appeared to want to pass him off.

There was something else she'd said that caught Harry's attention, and now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure why he should be so surprised. "Durmstrang? Is that another school of magic? I didn't know there were others or that some kids were home schooled."

"Oh, yes, there are several other main schools that children from European countries attend. Durmstrang and Hogwarts are two, Baubaxtons is the third. There are smaller schools, too, of course. Private institutions are fairly common and many families do choose to home school. They get a special dispensation from the Ministry to allow their children to practice magic at home so they can learn to use magic, too."

Harry nodded. It made sense that Hogwarts wouldn't be the only school. That there were others just hadn't occurred to him. He wondered what they were like, whether they had a poltergeist, moving staircases, ghosts for teachers, and greasy-haired Potions Masters who hated kids.

"The problem is," the doctor continued, "I don't have a way of contacting anyone from the hospital there and I've never been shown its location. Would you know how to get hold of them or would your aunt and uncle be able to show me the way so I can get you magical help?"

Oh, no, that wouldn't go. "No, Ma'am, they don't know how to get there, either. But I have an owl who could get to my Headmaster. He would know what to do. I don't think the Dursleys would bring me my owl, though."

"They are very preoccupied with your cousin right now, but let me call them in and see what can be done. We need them here to discuss your treatment options, anyway, as they're your guardians, correct?"

Harry nodded once again and she was up and gone before Harry could utter a syllable in protest.

A few minutes later, the elder Dursleys were standing in the doorway. Aunt Petunia looked nervous, Uncle Vernon looked angry. Dr. Lorrie ushered them in and Aunt Petunia walked to the foot of Harry's bed with her arms crossed and an angry look on her thin, horse-like face, while Uncle Vernon merely moved a few steps inside the door.

Dr. Lorrie gave them a rundown on Harry's injuries with a bit more detail than she'd given Harry. They appeared unmoved throughout the explanation. Harry hoped Dr. Lorrie hadn't noticed, but from the stiff way she was holding herself, he guessed she probably had. The doctor then explained to them that Harry would heal faster with a magical healer and asked them if one of them would care to run home and send Harry's owl to Professor Dumbledore of Hogwarts School.

Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon began to sputter in outrage. Dr. Lorrie bravely ploughed on.

"Your son Dudley, is he magical, as well?"

Uncle Vernon looked at the doctor, looked at Harry, and snarled a rather filthy insult that was way worse than the words he usually threw at Harry. This was definitely not going well. Harry mentally sighed.

Dursley then turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Seriously, he could give Professor Snape a run for his galleons.

"You don't know what you're asking!" Aunt Petunia hissed. "My Dudley is absolutely _not_ one of them! How do you know of the boy's freak school and his people?"

Harry watched as the doctor stepped back from his guardians, a tight smile on her face. "I realize your son and nephew were injured, and it has likely coloured your reactions, but I am sure you want what is best for both of them. Now, as to how I know about Harry's school, I am, in fact, magical as well, though I've had no formal magical education."

Aunt Petunia look horrified. "That boy caused us to wreck our car," she snapped. "I have no way to get home to get his filthy owl!" And without a backward glance, she too, swept from the room.

"Well, that went well," said Dr. Lorrie, smiling. "Don't you worry, Harry. If I have to, I'll go to your house myself and get your owl. Surely they'll at least allow that. Now, before we talk recovery times and methods, let me go talk with your relatives once more and see if we can't make that process much easier on you. Please do not move around in bed or attempt to get up. You've just had major surgery and your insides are still tender and swollen. Tap this button here if your pain gets to be too much. It will deliver more pain reliever into your system." She favored Harry with another brilliant smile before floating gracefully out of the room.

Sirius would absolutely love her, Harry thought before he once again fell into a deep, medication induced sleep.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Harry woke again a few hours later. Dr. Lorrie had just returned. She'd taken the liberty of sending a note to Professor Dumbledore after Harry's aunt had "graciously" given her the key to their home to retrieve Hedwig. Actually, Harry's aunt had been slightly less than gracious about it. No surprise there. When had she ever been gracious about anything concerning Harry? And now that she blamed him for what happened, he was pretty sure he'd be kicked out for good.

It would take Hedwig a few hours to fly to Hogwarts, but once there, Dr. Lorrie hoped a representative from the school would arrive or send instructions.

In the meantime, she had news about Dudley. Dudley had injured his spine, but his surgery had gone well. In time, he would walk again. Weight loss would help, so they were setting him a diet plan. The goal was to have him rehab during the summer and be back to his boarding school by the start of term. The goal was the same for Harry, but as his healing could be helped along by magical means, Dr. Lorrie believed he'd be up and around much more quickly than his cousin would. Her mother had told her about the wonderful things magical healers could do.

"Would you like to share a room with Dudley?" Dr. Lorrie asked.

She didn't seem surprised when the answer was "No". Apparently, the Dursleys had been pretty transparent about their feelings for Harry. Certainly her trek through the Dursleys' home would have been an eye-opening experience.

After talking together for a while about the differences between the Wizarding World and the Muggle World, Harry drifted off once more and Kagan Lorrie tucked him in before heading off to her next patient. The medication kept Harry's pain at bay but it sure made him tired.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

In what seemed like mere moments later, Harry was jarred awake as Uncle Vernon stormed into his room.

"Do you know what you've done!" At first, the groggy young man thought he was in the grip of a nightmare; but no, Uncle Vernon really was approaching Harry's hospital bed with venom in his eyes and danger in his voice. His uncle's wide face was twisted in rage, and had turned a curious reddish-purple that might have been amusing to see under other circumstances but to someone unable to get out of his way, was pretty terrifying. Oh, it was a nightmare, alright, but he wasn't asleep any longer and Uncle Vernon was more furious than Harry had ever seen him.

The large man grabbed Harry by the shoulders and began to shake him forcefully, screaming about Dudley and how Harry had hurt their dear son who would now be forced to suffer all summer before he could even hope to walk again.

And it hurt. Oh, it hurt so badly! He felt as if he were being torn apart, shake by shake.

Then there was another roar as a familiar voice yelled "Unhand him!" Before Harry could figure out what was going on, Professor Lupin was tearing Uncle Vernon off Harry. His uncle was then thrown across the room as if the immense Muggle weighed nothing at all.

The normally gentle former professor and friend was a welcome sight. Hedwig had come through in the nick of time. Lupin put his hands on the bed-rail, gripping it tightly, and looked down at Harry with a pale, worried expression.

"Harry?" Lupin whispered, as if fearful that Harry would not be able to answer. The teen could only nod shakily. The usually well composed man must not have liked what he saw because he immediately ran to the door and called for a doctor.

Moments later Dr. Lorrie rushed in, checked Harry over, and spoke in rapid, hushed tones with Professor Lupin. Harry tried to focus on their conversation, to understand what they were saying, but his body blazed with pain, and his mind had no space left for anything else.

Together Lupin and Dr. Lorrie secured Harry to his bed with the restraint straps that hung from the sides.

So much pain.

Within moments Harry was falling, falling, falling through a whirlpool of lights and color. His bed landed somewhat less than softly in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Pain again streaked through Harry's insides as they landed, and he could see Dr. Lorrie gripping the bed-rail and Professor Lupin running off, shouting for Madam Pomfrey. Then Harry mercifully blacked out.


	2. The First Reaction

**A note to those who read chapter one when it was first uploaded. We didn't realize it was missing quite a bit of the new changes when we uploaded it. After a few tantrums and many attempted uploads, we finally figured it out and the new version is up now. If you're interested, please reread chapter one. We hope you'll like the changes. Here is chapter two, hopefully with all the changes intact.**

As Kagan, her patient and his bed, and the man who had called her to Harry's side, all landed in the large, bright, and scrupulously clean room lined with empty beds, Kagan Lorrie didn't take time to look around further. It was obvious they'd been portkeyed out of one hospital and into another.

Her patient had just been shaken hard by his own guardian. Freshly out of surgery, the child's body tissues were swollen and tender. The abuse at the hands of his uncle could be catastrophic. As the gentleman who'd brought them here ran off calling for someone named "Poppy", Kagan's attention focused on the child in her care. She checked Harry over as well as she could without her equipment. A quick search for a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope proved unfruitful. Kagan really didn't need more than her eyes and hands, though, to know that Harry was bleeding inside his gut. That uncle of his had likely torn out his stitches. It was maddening. How could this happen? This boy was abused by his uncle, and whether that had been going on his whole life or not, she didn't know, but she vowed he'd never return to that family.

This appeared to be a magical hospital. There were beds, but no equipment, not even the standard oxygen hookups in the pale blue walls. No basic medical supplies were evident, but there were cabinets along the walls containing all manner of fancy bottles. Potions, then. This was definitely a magical facility.

The doors swung open and the gentleman who'd run off was now racing back in, alongside a kind but severe-looking woman. They immediately raced to Harry's side.

As Kagan watched, the Mediwitch pulled out her wand and began to scan Harry, spells weaving through air. She turned to the gentleman. He was a wizard who looked somewhat older than he probably was. His clothing was immaculate, but obviously well worn. His greying light brown hair was clean and well kept. He smiled sadly at her. The long scar on his face did not detract from his appearance. There was a mystery behind this man, a mystery that appeared to haunt him.

"I'm Remus Lupin, a close friend of Harry's. His father and I were friends when we were young. We met here at Hogwarts, in fact. I'm terribly sorry; I didn't have time to even warn you before whisking you away. I didn't mean to drag you along.

"This is Hogwarts, a boarding school that young Harry attends. And this is Madam Poppy Pomfrey, she's a doctor. I was so desperate to get him to someone who could stop any internal damage quickly, that I didn't stop to prepare you. In this place, they can deal with Harry's injuries more quickly, and that seemed the best option at the moment. You must have a million questions."

The soft-spoken man had the most expressive, gentle eyes. He appeared genuinely apologetic and Kagan hastened to reassure him. "Please don't worry that you've inconvenienced me in any way or given away any secrets. Harry's life is all that matters right now. My name is Dr. Kagan Lorrie. I'm a surgeon at the London Centre for Healing. I'm also a Witch. I had planned to get Harry to a magical facility because I knew more could be done with magic than I could do with Muggle medicine. I just didn't want it to happen under these circumstances. That family of his is certainly something, have you met them?" She turned back to Harry, whose breathing had ragged, and murmured, "Do you think she can help him?"

Lupin sighed in relief upon learning that he had not inadvertently exposed the Magical world to a Muggle, but his face quickly became troubled again as he, too, turned his attention back to Harry. It was clear he held a deep concern for this boy. She was glad to see that someone cared for him because his relatives, the ones charged with his care, most definitely did not.

"If anyone can, it'll be Poppy," he said. "She has a lot experience with fixing the things young witches and wizards can get up to."

They both stood by quietly, awaiting the results of the Mediwitch's evaluation, waiting to help in any way they could.

Madam Pomfrey was incanting a series of spells that barely made sense to Kagan, who used magic in a less structured way. She then called out several _Accios _while flipping her wand toward one of the potions supply cabinets. Kagan recognized some of the names of the potions, including _Blood Restorer_ and _Skelegrow._ There was also one called _Pain Relief,_ which, like most Magical things, was named quite simply and appropriately.

As Madam Pomfrey capably began spelling healing potions into her patient, Kagan was distracted by the appearance of a very tall, very old man who swept into the room as if he were a spry young man. He had a silver beard so long it could have been tucked into his belt. Indeed, he was tucking it into his belt as he approached their patient's bed. The look on his face was one of deep concern. This was another man who obviously cared for this boy. What was going on here? If so many loved him, why was he living with people who clearly did not?

This Wizard was fascinating. He wore bright emerald robes with planets and stars on the lining, cuffs and hems. His tall, pointed hat matched his robes. His blue eyes held a deep intelligence as he looked to Mr. Lupin, silently requesting information.

Lupin introduced him as Professor Albus Dumbledore. Kagan's eyes widened. So this was Albus Dumbledore. Everyone knew Dumbledore, of course, or at least knew of him. He was mentioned in nearly every edition of the Daily Prophet. Of course he'd be interested in the welfare of the famed Harry Potter. How silly of her not to have put together the name Hogwarts with Dumbledore.

While Lupin brought the man up to date on Harry's troubles, Madam Pomfrey finished administering the potions she'd _accio'd_.

Then the most fascinating things began to happen. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore began a delicate tandem act of weaving intricate magical combinations of wand movements and whispered incantations over Harry's young, still body. Almost immediately, Harry's color brightened and his breathing, previously labored, was calming into a slow, steady rhythm. This was why she was anxious to bring the child to a place such as this. Muggle medicine could not compare to what a magical healer could do for a witch or wizard. The healers' magic worked with spells and potions and the patient's own magic to facilitate healing.

When Harry was at last resting quietly, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore turned to Kagan and Mr. Lupin, who were standing back from Harry's bed, watching intently.

"Dr. Lorrie," Professor Dumbledore extended his hand and took Dr. Lorrie's in his, "it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, although I wish the circumstances were less dire," Professor Dumbledore began.

Just as Professor Dumbledore began to speak, Kagan and Lupin noticed that something was going very wrong with Harry. He was turning blue and appeared to be struggling to breathe. As they simultaneously shouted "Harry!", Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were already rushing back to his side, apparently alerted by the expressions on their faces before they could even utter the child's name.

"It's an allergic reaction!" Poppy shouted. "_Accio Allergy Relief Potion!_" She grabbed the potion out of the air and immediately spelled it into Harry. His face was now ashen. His throat had swollen shut. He'd stopped breathing and the potion didn't appear to be helping. Why wasn't it working?

"Why isn't it helping? Is there nothing else Magical you can do?" Kagan demanded, her mind snapping into focus as she thought about the Muggle options available to the boy.

"We don't know what caused it yet," Madam Pomfrey answered between frantic incantations, as she once again shot spells at the boy. Dumbledore had stepped back to allow the Mediwitch to continue, apparently out of his league. Brilliant though the man was, he rightly bowed to the expert when the situation demanded. But nothing Pomfrey was doing was improving Harry's condition. "Any more potions we administer other than the rather benign _Allergy Relief Potion_ could do more harm than good. Spells aren't opening his airway. The allergy is extreme. Is there anything you can do for him?" She looked rather desperately at Kagan.

Kagan nodded. It was her turn now. "I need a small tube, a sanitized tubular part of a quill will do. Quickly please!" Professor Dumbledore immediately conjured a quill and hit it with a sanitizing spell. "I also need a small, sharp, sterile scalpel, or a knife, something, stat!" This time Madam Pomfrey supplied the necessary item from the supply cabinet. She was quick, thankfully. "And some tape, please," the young doctor finished.

Kagan leaned over Harry and made a small incision in the child's neck between the tiroid and cricoid cartilages. As she inserted the tube into the incision, she stopped a moment and waited. Harry's color began to return. He was now breathing through the tube. He was out of danger. She'd bought him time.

After efficiently taping the quill in place, she turned to the others in the room. "What could it have been? This can stay in for now, but it's only a temporary solution. I hope we can reverse the effects of the allergy and allow this hole to heal."

Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey properly introduced themselves to Dr. Lorrie and thanked her for saving Harry today, and for performing surgery on him a few days before. "I don't yet know what he's allergic to. As you can see, I gave him quite a few potions," Madam Pomfrey answered Kagan's question of a moment before. "The ingredients are many and varied, or course. We'll have to isolate the allergen."

Kagan nodded. It was clear they had to figure this out so it never happened again and so they could reverse the tracheotomy. A permanent trach for such a young and vital boy was out of the question when they had magic at their disposal.

"We have an excellent Potions Master here at Hogwarts," the Headmaster began as he strode to the fireplace, and tossed in some floo powder. "Snape's quarters!" he called into the floo. After a quiet conversation that Kagan didn't quite catch, a tall, dark-haired man came through the fireplace. He appeared to be angry, possibly at being disturbed. His long strides matched the Headmaster's as they approached the ailing teen.

"Naturally, it would be Potter," he spat.

Well, right away Kagan could tell she wasn't going to like this man. It appeared that even among these others who obviously cared for the child, Harry had another nemesis, as if he needed one.

"What potions were administered?" demanded this arrogant man.

Madam Pomfrey rattled off the long list of potions she'd spelled into their patient minutes before. If this man was as good at Potions as the Headmaster claimed, this would be the way they would find what had caused Harry's throat to swell shut. The poor boy's skin was now erupting in hives. This had to be countered quickly.

It didn't take long for the Potions Master and Mediwitch to zero in on one potion by comparing a list of potions Harry had taken on previous visits to the hospital wing, and the ones he had been given today. The one called "_Blood Restorer_" was the only one he'd never been given before. The Potions Master seemed to go very pale at this discovery, and for him, that was saying something. His skin was already so sallow that losing more colour was quite a feat. He actually appeared almost ready to faint. Kagan took a step toward him, but surely she was mistaken. This dark, dangerous-looking man was no wilting flower to fall over at the thought that a student he clearly disliked could have ingested something dangerous.

But could it be that dangerous a potion? Surely they wouldn't have it here to administer to children if it were. Now the Mediwitch and Potions Master were doing some sort of testing on Harry. Professor Dumbledore stepped over to explain.

"They're testing him with the potions he's received before to see if he's developed an allergy to them since he last ingested them. If the tests come out negative, the _Blood Restorer_ can safely be believed to be the likely culprit. If that turns out to be the case, then I think we can safely administer a bezoar to counteract the ingredient that is toxic to his system. A bezoar can be used against most poisons, but there are some that react adversely to it. I do not believe anything in the _Blood Restorer_ would react adversely to the stone.

"Bezoars can be so useful, as I'm sure you know. Why I recall one case where a beautiful young Witch was being courted by a perfectly healthy young Wizard. One afternoon, she made him a pot of Safflower tea, at which point he began bleeding profusely from every orifice. The young Witch was beside herself; her suitor was dying at her hand. She immediately ran outside, butchered one of the family goats, took a stone from its stomach, and forced it down her Wizard friend's throat. She saved his life. They naturally married and live happily together on a very large goat farm somewhere just south here of with a passel of children and an even bigger passel of grandchildren.

"Ahh, I believe we have success with young Harry!"

While Kagan stood mentally shaking her head at Professor Dumbledore, Lupin smiled fondly at the man. She realized he must have been attempting to calm everyone by drawing attention to himself while the Mediwitch and Potions Master spelled the stone into Harry's stomach. Madam Pomfrey had made short work of the hole in Harry's neck and he was once again breathing normally and sleeping peacefully.

"Severus, Poppy, what do you suppose caused the reaction?"

"It was 'Astragalus', Headmaster," Snape replied.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes flashed something Kagan could not recognize, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving her to wonder if she'd seen it at all.

Snape said, "It appears Potter is severely allergic to the leaves of the Astragalus plant. Now if you do not need me for anything else, I believe I will return to my quarters where I have several important potions approaching critical stages."

"Of course, Severus, of course. But before you go may I introduce you to Dr. Kagan Lorrie? She is a surgeon who operated on Harry earlier this week. It appears he was in the family automobile when there was a terrible accident. Our Mr. Potter was in bad shape, but Dr. Lorrie fixed him right up. Unfortunately, there was another incident after that, necessitating a visit to our dear Madam Pomfrey."

As Professor Dumbledore introduced Professor Severus Snape and Dr. Kagan Lorrie, the Potions Master's eyes briefly met hers and he murmured a "Pleased to meet you, Ma'am". He nodded at Lupin. "Lupin." He turned to glance once more at Harry, then turned on his heal and stalked from the room, apparently having decided to walk back to his quarters rather than floo. What a thoroughly unpleasant man, Kagan thought.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Hogwarts? Oh, right, Uncle Vernon, Professor Lupin. Harry felt like he was rising to the surface from deep underwater. How in the world did he get here? The last thing he remembered was Uncle Vernon... well, it was really good that Professor Lupin came so quickly. Harry's thoughts rapidly cycled as he assessed his situation. He attempted to sit up to ask for some help, but all he could manage was a low groan. It was enough to get everyone's attention.

"Harry, my dear boy, how are you feeling?" That was Professor Dumbledore. Harry smiled, glad to hear the Headmaster's voice again. He didn't seem to be mad that Harry was back at Hogwarts so soon. It wasn't even the end of June yet and Harry was already away from his relatives. Of course, the Headmaster could make him go back, but Harry hoped that wouldn't happen. Dumbledore conjured a chair and sat beside Harry, taking his left hand in his own and holding it gently.

Dr. Lorrie and Professor Lupin stood on Harry's other side. "Harry, do you remember me? I'm Dr. Lorrie, from the Centre for Healing. How are you feeling?"

"Harry, I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner," Professor Lupin jumped in. "I could have prevented your uncle from hurting you had I been but a moment quicker. How are you, really?" Lupin's kind eyes were crinkled with worry.

"I'm fine, Sir, just a little sore." Lupin smiled his sad smile in reply. "And I'm sure you came as fast as you could, it's not your fault. It's just the way my uncle is, he can't help it. And of course I remember you, Dr. Lorrie. It's really great of you to come to Hogwarts to help me."

Madam Pomfrey walked out of her office just then and shooed everyone back from Harry's bed. She scanned him again, which tickled Harry's skin and made him smile. He truly loved magic.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you've had quite a time these last few days, haven't you? But you're going to be fine. Your abdomen is healing quickly; your head wound is nearly gone. Your arm and leg will take a bit longer to heal because _Skelegrow _works best if administered within an hour or so of the break, and you didn't come to me in time for that. You'll have to exercise to get them back into working shape once the bones heal. But as it's the summer holidays, I'm sure you'll manage just fine." Madam Pomfrey was more forthcoming than usual. Maybe she was less stressed during the holidays.

Harry nodded and thanked Madam Pomfrey, who smiled and ordered him to sleep for a few hours, promising to wake him when his dinner tray arrived.

Dr. Lorrie and Remus Lupin settled into chairs beside Harry's bed while the headmaster ruffled his hair and promised to return that evening to chat. It wasn't easy to fall asleep while two people sat watching you, but they seemed to sense his problem and turned to each other to talk quietly between themselves. Harry's body had gone through so much that it demanded sleep and he was in condition to argue.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Just as Snape expected, Professor Dumbledore came knocking at the door to his quarters within minutes. The Headmaster was too sharp to miss the implications of what had happened in the hospital wing, and he was too involved to let it go unresolved.

"Severus?"

The Potions Master looked up from his snifter of fine brandy that was not nearly strong enough to deaden the fears that were churning in his gut. Albus held out a tube of blood. Undoubtedly Potter's blood. Oh, no, the man did not miss a thing.

"Albus, it cannot be true. Surely you know that."

"Cannot, Severus? Is it physically impossible?" The Headmaster's voice was gentle, understanding, and yet probing.

Snape sighed. The problem was, it was not physically impossible. It should have been but there was one night, one night during which the past had been left in the past, and two who had loved each other for so many years had allowed themselves to unite in passion. It had been a beautiful night, a last gift before the sweet Lily returned to her betrothed, James Potter.

He had known before anything happened, before the sweetest night of Severus' life had even truly commenced, that it would never go beyond that night. He had had no illusions. One sweet night would have to last for a lifetime.

And so far it had. So far there had been no regrets. It was a night he had thought to cherish until the day he died. Was it now coming back to haunt him?

He reached for the tiny bottle. Severus Snape was not a man to push aside an unpleasant task. He faced life head on and dealt with what he must. And now he had to find out the truth.

Astragalus. A plant that had once nearly killed Severus had now nearly killed Potter. It was a rare allergy, very rare. It showed up now and then in the Prince family, but Severus had never heard of anyone outside the family having an allergy to the leaves of the Astragalus plant. Until now. Hopefully now.

And so Albus had put one and one together and come up with baby, and he wasn't one to leave well enough alone.

Never, never in all these years had Severus considered that Lily's child might have come from his own seed. It would take a few hours to brew the potion that would reveal the truth. Yes, he would brew the potion. Yes, he would get back to the Headmaster with the answer. Yes, he was fine. Yes, yes, yes.

The door shut quietly behind Albus.

Severus stepped into a room off his bright and roomy kitchen. It wasn't a large room. He did most of his brewing in the potions classroom at the head table. There was a lab table that ran down the middle and his best cauldrons and equipment lined the table and walls. There was one large window that looked out onto his private courtyard. He liked light in his quarters, which would confuse any visitors as his classroom and office were much more foreboding, and all three were in the dungeons. Home was separate, though. Home was where he went when he sought comfort and light. And so the castle's innate magic was used to provide him with windows and an exit onto level ground.

He pulled out his copper cauldron and a glass stirring rod, shaking slightly as he placed them on the table. He then pulled some ingredients from his shelves, lit the burner, and set to work. The hours of brewing passed quickly. Too quickly. And soon the results were in and were clear.

In a sudden moment of frustrated rage, he flung the cauldron at the wall with such force that the cast iron weight of it knocked a chunk of crumbled stone to the floor. Violet liquid showered down onto his best set of scales, and more dripped eerily down the walls.

"NO! NO! NO! … NO!"

Not Potter. No, not Potter. Please Merlin, not Potter!


	3. The Next Reaction

**Hello, Friends, we haven't been doing well with updates, that's obvious, but life has now settled into a workable pattern, and one would hope that emotions fall into an even keel. If that holds true, our story will once again become a priority in our lives. **

**We remember back probably two years now, before the massive first twelve chapters re-write, that we had a most amusing mistake in the text. When you get to the part in this chapter in Madam Pomfrey is bustling about, please bring to mind a picture of Madam Pomfrey bustling about _on_ the tray, rather than in front of it. Maybe that won't send the rest of the world into hysterics, but after we realized what we'd written it took the rest of the evening for our cheeks to stop aching from laughing so hard at the idea of a tiny Madam Pomfrey bustling about on the tray next to Harry's bed.**

**We hope you enjoy our re-write of chapter three. Stay tuned for chapter four.**

Watching from the shadows, Snape sneered as a large, shaggy black dog bounded through the halls of Hogwarts at top speed. He was obviously a dog on a mission. It must be Sirius Black. The Headmaster had informed him that Black was an animagus, a black dog, and he'd be coming to see Potter. Just what he needed to top off this miserable day. Sirius Black. Now that he knew that Black was a dog animagus, so much about the past suddenly made more sense.

"_A dog?" he'd sneered at the Headmaster. "And I suppose Potter and Pettigrew were animagi as well? Is that why they all disappeared each month at the full moon? Is that how they were able to be in the Shrieking Shack the night Potter set his werewolf on me?"_

"_Dear boy, let us leave the past where it belongs, long buried and, in this case, best forgotten."_

"_Perhaps for you, it is easily forgotten, Headmaster. But I will carry the memory of the night Black tried to get that __**friendly**__ werewolf to attack me forever." he'd spat._

And now Black was in the castle again and off to see Potter. Potter. The consequence of the one night of happiness he'd allowed himself in this life. Shortly after, Lily had run right back to Potter. He'd known she hadn't come to stay, even if she hadn't been aware of it herself. She'd been fighting with Potter for weeks. They hadn't spoken since several weeks earlier when Potter had refused to attend Lily's sister's wedding. He'd apparently hated the Muggle Petunia had found, and would not dress up to attend the wedding to wish them well. Lily had poured the story out to him the night she came to him. They'd stayed up half the night talking. She swore she wouldn't ever go back to Potter because he couldn't accept her family. Though Lily had been clear that she too, thought Petunia's choice for husband had been a poor one, she was family, and that was enough for Lily.

Apparently Potter couldn't accept that anyone would dislike him because he was magical. Naturally, no one could dislike a Potter.

Eventually, talking had led to comforting, and comforting had led to more. It had been a beautiful night and they'd talked of a future together. But two days later, he'd taken the Dark Mark. He'd understood Lily's revulsion. She was a Muggleborn, after all. But he'd thought she didn't understand. What the Dark Lord was offering was so much more. He'd promised power, wealth, acceptance, and a world in which magical purity meant something. Having been a loner all his life, those things mattered to him.

But Lily had understood more than he had. The Dark Lord was a megalomaniac. The power he offered was only for a select few. The wealth was his alone. The acceptance was there, but only if you wished to be accepted by such people. And magical purity he'd long since realized was impossible. No one's ancestry was "clean" or "pure". In all families, there had been mixed marriages, Muggle to Witch or Wizard. It was necessary to keep Magical families from dying out. Lily had been right and he had been wrong. He never should have taken the Mark. And when Lily found out, she ran straight back to Potter.

Now it was clear why. She'd been pregnant. And who would want to have a child to a Death Eater? He didn't blame her, but it still hurt. Obviously she wanted to be sure he'd never find out that her child was not Potter's, but his. After all, he was a bitter, Dark Arts fascinated, follower of the darkest Wizard of the age. A minion. A goon. A lackey. A thug. No longer in charge of his own fate, no longer in charge of his own life. Pledged to a man who had a following of slaves. And there was no way out save that of death. Death of either the Dark Lord or his own. And the Potter child had been credited with the former. His child. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. He didn't want it. Lily had saved that baby and defeated the Dark Lord. The Potter brat had done nothing but wet his nappie. And now that brat was in the hospital wing receiving a visit from his Godfather, being fawned over by everyone. And what will that boy say when he finds out he isn't who he thinks he is?

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Porridge never looked this good before. Sweet cream and juicy red strawberries floated in the bowl, just waiting to be stirred in. Eating again would be a real treat. It had been days since the accident and he hadn't had a bite to eat. Being kept nourished by an IV and potions just wasn't the same.

Madam Pomfrey was bustling about in front of the tray beside his bed; cleaning and arranging things, it seemed. The sunlight was pouring through the castle windows, brightening the hospital wing, making everything shine. Feeling more cheerful than he had since leaving Hogwarts a few weeks before, Harry sighed contentedly as he dug into his porridge. The first taste was as delicious as he imagined it would be.

As Harry put his nearly empty bowl back on his tray, he heard a clatter that sounded like dog claws on stone outside the hospital wing. The swinging doors were propped open, letting people flow in and out as naturally as the air did. But those sounds didn't belong to a person. Harry dared to hope...and before he could think that thought all the way through, a big shaggy dog bounded through the open doorway.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted. Madam Pomfrey looked up and gasped. As the dog tore through the aisle toward Harry, the Headmaster sauntered in behind him.

"Relax, Poppy, relax. This is no ordinary dog. This is Sirius, Harry's Godfather, come to visit."

Just as the dog reached Harry's bed, it transformed into a fairly young man with a broad smile.

"That's Sirius Black!" Poppy exclaimed.

Harry watched as Dumbledore drew Madam Pomfrey into her office. He supposed the Headmaster would explain Sirius' innocence.

Harry was glad to see that Sirius no longer looked like he had a few weeks ago. His hair, once down to his elbows, was neatly cut to his shoulders and fell in soft, clean waves. His teeth were clean and fixed. He'd already begun to regain the weight he'd lost in Azkaban. He was looking quite healthy, and Harry was truly pleased to see him.

"Harry!" Sirius cried.

Harry almost cringed as Sirius reached over the bed to hug him, but his hug was gentle, and there was no pain.

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Kiddo?" his Godfather asked. "You have more bandages on you than my brother did when he fell off the barn roof and onto the pitchfork."

Harry laughed. "I doubt your brother ever set foot in a barn let alone on one." Harry had been writing to Sirius regularly since they met a few weeks before term's end. Sirius had told Harry all about his family and their large, dark, mansion and rich family that had disowned him when he was young.

"True," said Sirius, "but if he _had _been on a barn, and there _had_ been a pitchfork under it, I can guarantee you he'd have fallen on it and he would not have required half the bandages you're wearing now."

It felt good to laugh again. This was just what Harry needed. He didn't hurt as badly as he had, magic truly was a wonderful tool for healing, but he had been through plenty before arriving back at Hogwarts. From the moment he stepped off the Hogwarts Express and into the Muggle World, he'd been lonely, sad and hurt. But now he was back at Hogwarts and the magic was surrounding him. And his family, these people he loved so much, were all letting him know how much they loved him back. It was how summer should be, how it probably was for his friends, and how it was now, for him. Now if Madam Pomfrey would just let him out of this bed...

"I can't believe the staircases move!"

It seemed Dr. Lorrie and Professor Lupin were back from touring the school. Harry grinned. The staircases fascinated him, as well. Neville still forgot about that third step sometimes.

At the sight of a lady he hadn't yet met, Sirius leapt up, grinned a cocky grin, and held out his hand. "Sirius Black, at your service, M'Lady!"

Professor Lupin smiled an indulgent smile. He was obviously used to Sirius. "Dr. Kagan Lorrie, this is Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Harry's doctor, Kagan Lorrie."

"Black? Sirius Black?" Dr. Lorrie was obviously shaken. She turned to whisper to Harry's former professor.

Professor Lupin hastened to assure her. "This is my best friend, Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather. He was wrongly accused of murder, a crime you've no doubt heard of on the television news. We know now who murdered those people, but while we know the truth, the man got away and we can't prove it. So for now, Sirius is in hiding."

Harry noticed his doctor still seemed apprehensive, but willing to give Sirius the benefit of the doubt. That was a relief.

When the doctor stretched out her hand to shake with Sirius, the man grinned and took her hand and kissed it. Trust Sirius to make a show of everything. Still, he couldn't help smiling. Here was his Godfather in all his glory, looking young and vibrant and ready to take on the world. It was good to see. A month ago it looked as if the former prisoner would never be well again.

Harry's visitors all pulled up chairs around his bed. Before Dr. Lorrie sat down, she checked Harry over. "Why are you pressing my fingernails?"

"I'm checking to make sure your circulation is good. Your breathing is back to normal, which is great news, and your color is wonderful. Your healer is very good at what she does. In a Muggle hospital, you wouldn't be nearly this far along." She pressed lightly on Harry's abdomen and smiled and pronounced his healing to be well along, before sitting down with Remus and Sirius beside Harry's bed.

"So Harry, what do you have planned for summer?" Sirius asked. "You don't have to go back to those Muggles, do you?"

Harry's heart started to race a bit. "I don't know. I hope not. They're going to be awfully busy with Dudley and his treatments. I might really be in the way, cause them extra work."

Professor Lupin and Dr. Lorrie began talking at once.

"You won't be going back to your relatives if I have anything to say about it, Harry," Lupin said.

"Those people aren't fit to raise a squirrel let along a child!" Dr. Lorrie proclaimed.

Sirius looked at everyone in turn, his expression demanding an explanation.

Harry was mortified. It hadn't been that bad! And he sure didn't want his life there discussed by all the adults in his life here!

Professor Lupin obliged. "Dr. Lorrie went to the Dursley residence to retrieve Hedwig, Harry's owl. She saw the conditions under which Harry was forced to live. Harry's room is small and bare, there are several large locks on the door. His cousin's room is large and filled with all manner of comforts and entertainment while Harry has none. The house is filled with pictures of Harry's cousin; there are none of Harry. When I received the note Hedwig brought from Dr. Lorrie requesting one of us to come see if we could help Harry after his accident, I walked into Harry's hospital room and caught his uncle shaking him hard. Harry had just come from surgery on his abdomen; his uncle was likely to kill him. I threw him off Harry and we portkeyed here."

"It's just the way it is." Harry sighed when they all turned to him as if for confirmation. "If I don't have to go back there then it doesn't matter anyway. Can we just drop it? And what's a portkey?" Harry asked.

Everyone ignored him as they rushed to placate the very agitated Sirius Black. "Don't worry, Sirius, we will take care of them. We will make this right for Harry," Professor Lupin assured him.

"Darn right we will," Sirius snarled. "And don't think you're going to exclude me."

Harry tried again, desperate to change the subject. "What's a portkey?"

Professor Lupin answered. "A portkey is an item spelled with the enchantment 'Portus'. It will transport you to a predetermined destination when activated by a word or by touch. A portkey can be anything from an old shoe to a diamond necklace. When I saw what your uncle was doing, and how white you were becoming, I activated this particular portkey with a word. Dr. Lorrie was unfortunate enough to be touching your bed as the portkey activated. It was entirely my fault. The portkey transports you through space to your destination with a whirlwind tunnel sort of sensation after a yank behind your navel. It was not an ideal way to travel for someone in your condition but I did not feel you had much time left, I knew we had to get you here quickly and that was the fastest means of travel available to us."

"Um, thank you then, Professor Lupin. I don't think I'd still be here if you hadn't used your portkey. Dr. Lorrie, what will you do? You disappeared with a bed with a patient on it. Will you be in trouble?"

"Your Headmaster is going to help me fix things. Honestly, I'm not sure anymore that I want to return to my old job. I had no idea what I was missing not being involved in the magical world. Magical healing is amazing and I'm wondering if I can combine my knowledge of healing the Muggle way with magical healing to better help patients. I'd like to find out what sort of training I'd need to apply for to become a healer."

Lupin, Sirius and Dr. Lorrie luckily became engrossed in a boring conversation about healing in the Muggle vs Magical worlds. There was no way he wanted them to start talking about the Dursleys again. But what would happen to him now? After Uncle Vernon attacked him like that, he didn't think Dumbledore would make him go back there.

Madam Pomfrey arrived just as their conversation seemed to be winding down, thus saving Harry from more Dursley questions. "Alright everyone. Mr. Potter needs his rest. You may all come see him again this evening after he's had a chance to get some rest and eat a decent meal or two."

Normally, this irritated Harry. He hated having his friends shooed from the hospital wing when he was here. But he had to admit he was feeling pretty groggy. It might be a good idea to take a short nap before lunch.

Sirius hugged Harry again, Professor Lupin touched his shoulder and told him to rest well. Dr. Lorrie kissed Harry's forehead. "You get well quickly, young man, alright? I want another tour of this castle soon, and this time I want to see the places old fogies know nothing about."

Harry laughed and agreed and his visitors filed out.

Lunch was Harry's favorite, roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy. It was delicious. Food at Hogwarts was always great. As he was finishing, Dumbledore arrived.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I'm okay Professor. I'm just wondering what my summer's going to be like."

"Well, dear boy, that's exactly why I'm here."

Harry's heart started racing. He was afraid Dumbledore would say he had to go back to the Dursleys and he didn't think he could do that.

"I've been thinking about this, Harry, and it's obvious that your time with the Dursleys should come to an end." Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Dumbledore continued, "I've done some things in my life that I'm not proud of, Harry. And leaving you with a family that could not come to care for you tops the list. I truly believed that they would see you for the precious baby boy that you were, how could they not? And yet, they did not. I should have checked on you, I should have taken you from there years ago. And soon, when you're feeling better, I'd like to talk with you about what your life with the Dursleys was like.

"But for now, I think you have enough on your plate. And so I'd like to ask you if you'd like to spend the summer here at Hogwarts."

Harry brightened considerably at this. He'd hoped, but hadn't dared to believe.

"There will be some teachers here over the summer, teachers who can look after you. Teachers who are members of an organization of which I am head, an organization of people I trust implicitly. I formed this organization during the first war against Voldemort. It is a group of people that were dedicated to ending Voldemort's reign of power. As it appears obvious after the events of your first and second year that we have not seen the end of Voldemort, this group continues to meet periodically, and it's members are close knit and work together well. Several of the teachers here are members. Professor Snape, for one. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Hagrid, your former Professor Lupin and Sirius are all members. This is a secret organization and I expect you to treat it as such. It's not to be spoken of with anyone. Do you understand?"

"I do, sir, and I appreciate you telling me this."

"Very good, young man, very good. Now, there is something of great import that we must discuss. I fear that you will not take it well and I need your assurance that whatever we speak of, you will not move excessively and endanger your healing."

Well if that wasn't an announcement that would send your average kid running for his life, Harry didn't know what was. He nodded, afraid to trust his voice.

The Headmaster continued: "It has recently come to light that the Dursleys are not your only living relatives. And this is good news, because in order not to become a ward of the Ministry, you must be under the guardianship of a relative or be adopted by someone. Adoption proceedings take quite a long time, and by the time we found you a home and had the legalities settled, you would have been made a ward of the Ministry. It is lucky that we found this relative quite unexpectedly."

"There's someone that belongs to me, sir? Someone who might love me? Take me in?" Harry remembered Dumbledore saying he'd be staying here at the school. "Someone here at the school, sir?" Harry cringed at how needy he sounded. But he'd been wanting someone for himself as long as he could remember and it had just slipped out.

"Yes Harry, that someone is here at the school. As for someone you can claim for your own, someone who will love you, well, I'm quite sure that given time, those things will develop."

This wasn't sounding good.

"Harry, we recently discovered that James Potter was not your biological father. You were the son of his heart. He loved you dearly. He died to protect you and your mother. He left everything he owned to you. He is and always will be, your father. However, he did not contribute to your conception."

Harry was in shock.

"When you were given the Blood Restorer potion yesterday, you had a severe allergic reaction. We tested you and found that your allergy was to the Astragalus leaf. This leaf is not normally an allergen. This potion is normally safe. However, there is one family line known to have a sensitivity to this leaf. Some in the family have died from exposure to this leaf. When we saw that you were allergic to this leaf, we tested your blood against that of the man who is also allergic to this particular leaf. The results were positive, he is your father."

"Who, sir?" he gasped.

"I'm afraid Harry, that it's Professor Snape."

Harry's heart leapt to his throat. No. Not Snape. Tears sprang to his eyes. Of all the people it could have been, why Snape? It was bad enough to learn that James Potter was not his real father, but then he was told that his real father was Professor Snape? Snape, the most hated man in the school? The one person who hates him as much as the Dursleys do? _That_ Snape?

Suddenly, Harry couldn't catch his breath. His lungs seemed unable to fill with air. He began panting, sweating, he couldn't breathe.

Dumbledore tipped a phial to Harry's mouth, encouraging him to drink a potion. But Harry couldn't drink, he couldn't breathe, how could he drink? Snape was his father?

Calming words flowed through the air. They floated up and down in a beautiful cadence, a rhythmic spell incanted by a master of spells. Harry began to calm, he was able to drink the draught, which calmed him further. Now the world seemed gentler.

Snape had slept with his mother. Snape was his father. Snape, the bat of the dungeons. The git who terrorized students for a hobby. The bloke who made it a priority to make Harry's life hell. Well didn't that just figure?

His thoughts seemed to be flowing upstream against the potion, but they kept losing. He kept losing sight of what he was upset about. He giggled a little. If he could have a sip of this industrial strength calming draught before every Potions class, he might never mess up a potion again. It wouldn't bother him at all that the dungeon dweller was looking over his shoulder, snapping off nasty comments about his work.

Wait, what was this about again? Oh, right, Snape. Snape was his father. Daddy. Pop. Papa. Really, how could you not giggle at that? In fact, it was downright hilarious. Papa Snape. It had a certain ring to it. He rather liked it.

Naturally, at that very moment, the man in question walked into the room. "Papa Snape!" Harry yelled, an expression of extreme happiness on his face.

Snape's expression, however, was one of complete horror.

"I suppose the reaction to the combination of the Placidum Spell and the Calming Draught have brought us to this point, Severus."

"Papa Sev'rus!" Harry yelled.

Snape turned on his heel and practically ran for the door.

Dumbledore and Harry sighed together, with two very different expressions on their faces. "Perhaps it's best Professor Snape not be here when that Calming Draught wears off," Professor Dumbledore ventured.


	4. The Consequences

The next morning, Harry was sitting up in bed eating a light breakfast when Dumbledore walked in.

"Are you feeling more yourself, Harry?" Dumbledore looked over the top of his half moon glasses at Harry. He had a way of looking into you rather than at you. There was little you could hide from Professor Dumbledore.

Harry was feeling much better. He had a much smaller bandage on his wand arm and the bandage on his abdomen was gone, though it was still tender there. His leg was still immobilized with a spell, but the bandages were gone. The spell kept his leg so stiff that he couldn't bend it, it felt like he didn't even have a knee or ankle. He could move it from the hip, but nothing from the hip down would bend.

All in all, he was in much better shape than he'd been in the day before. However, he wasn't sure how long he'd be feeling better. Had he really called Snape "Papa Severus?" Has anyone ever done something like that and lived to tell about it?

Harry groaned, his face crimson. And was it really true? Snape was his father? Professor "Slytherin to the core, I hate all things Gryffindor in general and Harry Potter in particular" was his father? Someday he ought to write a book about his life. Trouble is, no one would believe it.

Dumbledore, in his flashy yellow robes, was smiling down at him, letting him know he wasn't in trouble. "Do not worry yourself, Harry. Professor Snape is a Potions Master, after all. He's well aware of the affects potions, spells, and medications together can have on a young man such as yourself. He will not condemn you for your faux pas."

Somehow that didn't help Harry feel much better. Dumbledore may be brilliant, and all, but he sure had a blind spot where it came to Snape. Snape may be a Potions Master, but he was still Snape. And in Harry's experience, Snapes didn't shed their scales that easily.

"Now Harry, the reason I felt it necessary to spring the news of your parentage on you so abruptly last evening, is that we have an unfortunate situation on our hands. Apparently, the Dursleys were so upset by the accident and how it affected your cousin, that they wrongly blamed you. They appear to have, in their hearts, disowned you. I'm very sorry to have to have told you this, Harry. It isn't easy when one is at odds with their family. But I'm sure you noticed that your uncle was quite angry."

Harry scoffed. That was putting it mildly.

"This became an emergency when the ministry's 'Child Alone Notifier' sounded. This notifier is an instrument that sounds an alarm when a magical child is orphaned or abandoned. It works through a complicated bit of magic, well beyond what we teach here at Hogwarts. To my knowledge it has yet to misinform Ministry officials.

"I did not expect the alarm to sound after you and your relatives were involved in your accident, yet a dear friend within the ministry alerted me to the fact that it had, indeed, done so. The alarm sounded after you were brought here to us, so I can only surmise that your relatives have worked themselves up until they were quite angry. Apparently, they no longer wish to allow you to return to them. You would not have done so, in any case, not after your uncle attacked you.

"However, the fact that they were still your guardians would have bought us time to make other arrangements for you. Now that the Minister knows that they have rejected you, he has ordered me to turn you over as soon as you are released from the hospital wing. We cannot, of course, allow that to happen. Sometimes fortune can be found in the most unfortunate circumstances. Such was the case yesterday when you had an allergic reaction to the astragalus plant. Through that reaction, we found that you have a living relative. And according to our laws, Professor Snape's claim in the matter of your custody supersedes that of the Ministry. Your Professor must claim you as his son before you are able to be released from Madame Pomfrey's care. I would not have been so quick and careless in my haste to inform you, otherwise."

Harry nodded. It was shocking but he had an idea that it would have been just as shocking even if Dumbledore had taken all summer to break the news. There weren't too many ways to say "Professor Snape is your father." that could be done kindly. Sometimes life really, really stinks.

The Headmaster continued: "In our world it is a practice of long standing that a child who suddenly finds himself in need of a guardian be given to the care of another through a Guardianship Rite. It is a magically binding ritual in which the new guardian takes on the care of a minor child. There is little you need to concern yourself with during this ceremony. You need only be on your best behavior. Professor Snape will be required to make certain vows that will put him in charge of your welfare from now until you come of age. There may be other vows he may wish to make that would carry you through your lifetime, but that is something your Professor will decide on his own. This Rite must be performed this evening as it is likely that you will be well enough to leave the hospital wing tomorrow.

"And now for your summer arrangements. They will depend on whether Professor Snape intends to stay here at Hogwarts for the summer, or whether he intends to take you to one of his homes."

Ut Oh. This was not something he'd considered. He hadn't ever really thought about the professors having homes outside of Hogwarts. And now he may have to leave his home at Hogwarts and live somewhere else with Professor Snape? No. He'd run away before he let that happen. There was no way he was going anywhere with Snape. Father or not, he was never going to be in a position where he could not escape the man. Harry's mind raced through all the times Snape had been almost cruel to Harry and his friends. Almost heck, he had been cruel to all three of them many times over. And going to live in his house, under his rules, was just not on. But there was something else the Headmaster had said."One of?" Harry asked.

"Yes Harry, Professor Snape is heir to two ancient magical families. However, I do not know his summer plans as of yet. If he wishes to remain at Hogwarts for the summer, we will open a suite of rooms near his own in the dungeons for you."

"Why do I have to live by him or with him? Why can't I live in the tower?"

"Harry, dear boy, I imagine Gryffindor Tower would be quite intimidating were you to stay there alone. As brave as you are, in the summer there are no other children around. The dormitories and common room may sometimes seem almost crowded during school term, but take my word for it, during the holidays, it's another story entirely.

Harry hastened to assure Dumbledore: "I'm not afraid Sir, really. I don't need to be near Professor Snape. And I promise, he won't want me anywhere near him, either. If I have to live with him, I'll be killed within ten minutes." Then a dark smile crossed Harry's face. "Or he will."

"Now Harry, I know that you and Professor Snape have never made an effort to get along. But you have never, to my knowledge, attempted to murder one another. Let us hope that we need not fear that in the future, either. In fact, one would hope that your feelings toward each other would soon mellow. But as he is your father and will soon be your legal guardian, it is best for all concerned if you at least appear to be under his protection and guidance. The Ministry, especially, will be watching."

By now Harry was fervently hoping that Snape wasn't looking to take Harry out of Hogwarts to some house somewhere so they could bond as father and son. Father and son. That was an awful thought.

Harry hid an involuntary shudder.

Dumbledore stood and patted Harry on his uninjured leg. "Well young man, I have places to go and people to see. And I see Madam Pomfrey standing just over there, patiently waiting for another chance at you, so I will leave you to your examination and bid you farewell. I will return this afternoon to help you prepare for your Guardianship Rites which we will hold this evening. It should give you an ideal opportunity to crack open your Journal of Magic to a fresh new page."

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Severus Snape was furiously pacing in his rooms, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to come for him. If the headmaster stayed true to form, he would be there within minutes to escort Snape to his office for a meeting with the damnable Black and Lupin. He would arrive at Snape's door early, not trusting him to attend the meeting without a personal escort.

The rooms he paced were spacious, as were all the Professor's rooms, especially those of the Heads of House. Done in a mixture of earth tones, the rooms were warm and welcoming. It was inconceivable that tonight he'd be taking on the care and feeding of one Harry blasted Potter. And that Potter might someday set foot in these rooms. Better that it be Neville Longbottom than Harry Potter.

He'd have to make him his heir, of course. Families could not continue without heirs, and as he could not ever imagine himself married with children, Potter would have to be his heir. At least his lines would not die out. Potter could give him that much. And it wasn't as if he were asking a favor of the child. His ancestry was pure and noble. The boy could do much worse than to be the sole heir of the Potter, Snape and Prince lines. In fact, when Snape was gone, Potter's wealth would likely surpass that of even the Malfoys.

Too bad it had to be Potter. But wouldn't it be entertaining to see Lucius Malfoy's face when he hears that Harry Potter is his heir? Let him brag about Draco's future now! His son, his _famous_ son, would be the sole heir to three noble families. It wasn't as if he had to spend much time with the boy. It wouldn't hurt if he, himself, benefited from this arrangement, too.

Ah, there was Professor Dumbledore now. They could get this unpleasant business taken care of and put it behind them. He had meant to return to his manor for the summer but he would not take that Potter brat to his home, even if the boy might some day inherit it. He was not planning to introduce the boy to his father or sister. Ever. Nor would he wish to take him to the Prince ancestral home. They'd have to stay here for the summer and make do.

Earlier, Dumbledore had assured him that if he stayed at Hogwarts for the summer, Potter would not have to stay in his rooms with him. He'd been meaning to find the time to remodel his potions laboratory and his storage rooms. Staying here would give him that opportunity. Yes, they would stay here for the summer.

"Good Morning, Severus."

"Good Morning, Albus. Papa Severus? Really Headmaster..."

"Now Severus, you of all people know very well how potions, spells, and medications can interact. The boy was not in control of himself at that moment. I'm afraid he did not take the news of his parentage well."

Yes, he had recognized that Potter was under the influence of at least potions and medications. If Albus had spelled him as well, it is no wonder the boy reacted the way he did.

"He is not the only the who did not take the news well. Albus, I am not prepared to be anyone's father, let alone that boy's father. He may not be Potter's son after all, but he is still the most arrogant, rule breaking, insolent boy that I have ever have the misfortune to teach. I cannot be made his guardian. Surely there is another option."

And yet, you are his father, Severus. Are you unwilling to satisfy your obligations toward Harry?

This rankled Snape. His personal honor had always been important to him. He did not shirk his duties, no matter the cost.

"You know very well that there is no other way, Severus. You are blinded by your hatred for a man who is not Harry's father, after all. You cannot see the boy for who he is. He was unloved, Severus. His childhood was much like yours in your early years. Surely with such a childhood, it would be hard for anyone to grow up without some scars. Harry may not show his scars openly, but I've seen the pain in his eyes. He needs someone to call his own. In fact, he has said as much."

Now the headmaster had gone too far.

"How dare you bring my childhood into this! That brat is nothing like me. He may not have been pampered, but I assure you, he has suffered little. You can see it in his arrogance, in his overblown sense of self worth."

Professor Dumbledore merely shook his head. "I do hope, Severus, that in the future you at least make an attempt to treat Harry with a little respect and kindness, no matter what you may believe of him. He is your son."

"Humph," was all Snape could manage.

"In any case, I am here to escort you to my office for our meeting with Sirius and Remus."

"Headmaster, may I ask why you felt the need to come down to the dungeons to pick me up to take me back upstairs to your office?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I take it you would not believe I was wandering the dungeons for the view?"

"No."

"Very well then, I had an idea that you would need an escort in order to find your way to my office this morning."

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

A short time after the meeting, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were striding up to the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive. Not one of them appeared to be in a good mood. Neighbors stared at the men whose clothing was completely out of place for a hot June day in Surrey. The oldest of the men wore a very long white beard. He appeared to be in charge of this group and led the way up the walk. Everyone was watching. The Dursleys were a frequent topic of conversation in the neighborhood and now they were getting a visit from four strange men in the middle of a Saturday afternoon.

The Dursleys' immense son was the neighborhood bully, but the parents doted on him. Their nephew, a scrawny boy, was reputed to be a juvenile criminal who attended a reformatory school. Yet he was unfailingly polite whenever one encountered him on a sidewalk or at the playground. He did not appear to have friends, but perhaps that was because of his cousin's interference more than his behavior or reputation. They watched as the Dursleys hushed the group and rushed them indoors. It was too bad they didn't stay to conduct their business on the lawn, where everyone could see.

Severus Snape didn't know what to expect when he arrived at Potter's family home, but he knew that this was not it. As he quickly scanned his surroundings, he noticed that the family was obviously well off, something he would not have guessed he would find. Potter must dress the way he does out of choice, rather than necessity. Everything was new and in pristine condition.

A very angry Vernon Dursley ushered them into the kitchen, practically pulling them in off the stoop. From the kitchen there was an open door to the living room, where a hospital bed had been installed and a massive boy of about Potter's age was reclining upon it.

"Who's there, Mummy? Who are you talking to?" the boy demanded.

As he was was yelling to his mother, he was spraying bits of food everywhere while stuffing his mouth with crisps from a huge yellow bag. How utterly disgusting.

"It's OK, Dudders, Mummy will be right there. Don't worry about these people. Daddy will get rid of them."

Snape sneered. Obviously the Dursleys spoiled their charges, as he'd always believed.

It was interesting, however, that there was no sign that Potter had ever lived here. There were family pictures everywhere, none of which included Potter. There were also dozens of solo pictures of the boy in the living room. There appeared to be none of Potter. That was certainly not what he'd expected to see, but it fit with what he knew of the incidents of the past few days. Perhaps Albus was right, and Potter was not loved here.

The elder Dursley was attempting to shout Albus down. Albus, of course, never raised his voice. He could say more with his eyes in a look than most people could say in a ten minute rant. Black, however, was a different story, he appeared to prefer the hands on approach. As soon as the cluster of Wizards at the door made their way into the room, clearing the way, he raced forward and grabbed Dursley by the collar. The werewolf also started forward, likely in an attempt to restrain his friend, but Albus gave him a discreet sign asking him to hold back. Lupin retreated to a spot by the door, wand at the ready.

Petunia was shrieking at all of them, ordering them out of the house. She had not yet recognized her sister's childhood friend. Snape stepped forward.

"Petunia, how lovely to see you again."

"YOU!" she shrieked.

"Yes, me," he drawled. "Time has not been kind to you, has it, Petunia? And you've become even more of a harridan, I would not have thought it possible. Such lovely family photos you have displayed here. Where are those of your nephew?"

"GET OUT SEVERUS! You have no business here!"

"Oh but I do. You see, Wizards take care of their own. And as much as it may pain me to admit it, Harry Potter is one of our own. You have not treated him well, Petunia. He was given into your care in the belief that you would treat your own nephew, son of the sister you once worshiped..."

Petunia hissed at that.

"And a baby. A little boy much like your own..."

"He is NOTHING like my Dudley!"

"A boy much like your own," Snape continued, "but raised in a vastly different manner. It is clear he was not welcome here. He is obviously an unwanted burden and we are here to relieve you of your custodial obligations. You need only sign these documents and he will no longer be under your tender care."

While Snape was dealing with Petunia, he could see that Sirius Black had Vernon cornered. Black was hissing in Dursley's face, with Dursley's collar still bunched in his fists, demanding to know why he couldn't manage to take care of one extra little boy...why he needed to treat him like an interloper and deny him the basic human necessities like kindness, and caring. Snape was actually impressed with Black's restraint and coherent interrogation. He was also impressed with the way Black kept smacking Dursley's head against the wall behind him to punctuate his questions.

Dumbledore passed the guardianship papers to Petunia, who willingly, even gleefully, signed them. She returned them to the Headmaster, who smiled down at her before turning back to his companions.

"I'll ask you gentleman to cause no permanent damage to either the Dursleys or your knuckles. I must be off. Do return to the school as soon as you've finished here. We have plenty to do this evening." He then walked through the house sending an Accio here and there to gather anything belonging to Harry. Then he turned on his heel and popped back to Hogwarts.

Lupin, the ever accommodating sidekick to Potter and Black, offered to step outside and allow Harry's father and Godfather to perform some of the "Vindico" Series of Spells. These were spells that would, Snape felt, adequately punish the Dursleys. The couple appeared to be obsessively concerned with appearances. The house was kept immaculately clean. Their automobile was shiny and new. The landscaping was just so. When their group originally arrived at the house, Petunia and Vernon had ushered them in quickly, heads whipping back and forth to see who was outside and watching. Snape concluded that the Vindico spells would be a perfect punishment for mistreating a Wizard child in their care. The spells were referred to as the "Vengence" spells because they were used to isolate and punish someone who'd offended another.

Like Compulsion spells, the Fastidium spell, the first of the Vindico spells, was designed to influence Muggles. Only this spell would not simply send them away making them think they had forgotten something. This spell would make them feel an aversion to the designated area. They would rush away, feeling as if it were somehow repulsive and unclean.

The second in the series of spells they intended to cast was the Contineo spell. This spell would would cause the Dursleys to feel as if their home were too small, as if they couldn't get enough light or air, as if they were suffocating. It would approximate what Potter must have felt all those years here in this house, where he obviously wasn't welcome among the family.

The spells were either cast by the offended person or others acting on his behalf. They were difficult to cast. They required a lot of strength and Snape had not been able to sleep, not since learning he had sired Harry Potter. But for this he would find the strength. Potter was his son. He may not like the idea, indeed, he hated it, but it was only right that he and Potter's Godfather be the ones to exact punishment for what the child had endured at the hands of these Muggles. If Lupin had not arrived at the hospital where Potter had undergone Muggle surgery when he did, the boy's uncle would likely have killed him. And so, tired or not, he would join with the idiot Black, and cast the Fastidium and Contineo spells.

Now the Dursley family would have no friends. They would have no honor, no prestige. They would be seen as repulsive by anyone who came near their home. They would no longer have guests, for no one would come near the house. They would likely be gossiped about because all they held dear would appear unclean, which would destroy Petunia. And she'd deserve it.

The spells would not follow them to a new home, of course. The spells must be attached to a building, not a person. However, with the Vindico spells in effect, it would be next to impossible to sell the house. So unless they left the home behind and moved just themselves and their belongings, they were stuck in the situation he and Black were about to create. It was fitting.

It did not surprise Snape that Black knew these spells. The Black family was notorious for its dark magic practitioners. You do not grow up like that without picking up a few things now and again. Snape knew that first hand. His own family had dabbled in the dark arts rather obsessively and were quite well practiced in revenge plots, usually those perpetuated on each other.

Black nodded at Snape. Snape nodded back. "Petrificus Totalus!", they incanted together. Petunia and Vernon dropped where they stood and Dudley began squealing. For Merlin's sake he sounded like a terrified pig. However, with his injury he could not move from his bed. It was a pity he'd be involved in this, he was just a child. But according to Lupin, Dr. Lorrie reported that the Dursley boy had spent plenty of time while in hospital bitterly complaining about his freak cousin and the damage he'd done to him. He had made all manner of threats concerning his plans for Potter when next he saw him. It was obvious the Dursleys were unanimous in their dislike and mistreatment of Potter.

Together the two Wizards raised their wands and wove a long, involved incantation around the inside of the home, concentrating on the outer walls. They cast Fastidium together as they spread the magic through the structure of the home. The walls shimmered before solidifying once more. It was an exhausting bit of magic. The compulsion spells on sports stadiums were woven by dozens of Wizards and Witches together. While this home hardly compared in size to such a structure, it was still draining for two wizards to cast enough magic to cover it. Lupin could not have helped, his status as a Wizard was always in jeopardy depending on the whims of the Ministry. If it were found that he had used such dark magic, it would be used as an argument in favor of taking "human" status from werewolves and reclassifying them as "beasts". These Ministry whims ruled Lupin's life and it was better that he, like Dumbledore, the leader of the light, not be present during the casting.

The next spell concentrated on the walls inside each room. "Contineo!" Room after room, they practiced their craft with the ease of experience. When they were done, Snape was swaying and Black wasn't much better off. Dudley had been screaming through the entire experience, it hadn't helped.

Now the house would feel repulsive to any Muggle who came near. They had taken care of that quite thoroughly. The inside would give no comfort to its inhabitants. As long as a Dursley owned this house it would feel as if it were a tiny bedroom. Fitting.

As Dr. Lorrie had mentioned, Potter's bedroom door was locked with half a dozen strong locks. There was a cat flap in the door, seeming to imply that the door was rarely opened to let Potter out. That was no way to treat a child. They'd chosen the punishment well.

Black and Snape shared a look. What they had done here they had done for a small Wizard boy who could not avenge himself. They had done it together, combing their skills and strength. They were satisfied with the results. They might not leave here friends, but at least they were no longer bitter enemies. At some point this afternoon, they had developed a grudging, tentative, mutual respect.

With a quick flick of his wand, Snape released the Dursleys from their frozen state. They were ranting and raging long before they got to their feet. It was time to leave. Black led the way out to the lawn where Lupin stood with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

"Why are looking so smug, Lupin?" Snape asked.

Black seemed to understand right away. These two were well attuned to each other from years of plotting, scheming and perpetuating mischief together.

While Black approached Lupin, slapping him on the back, Lupin explained. "Well, every neighborhood has at least one gossip. It was easy to tell that this neighborhood gossip lived right next door to Harry. When I came from the house, she came right over, demanding to know who we were and what was going on. So I told her. We are representatives from Harry Potter's school. For some reason, the dear lady was under the impression that Harry attended a school called 'St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.' I disabused her of that notion, of course.

"I explained that Harry attended an exclusive school for gifted boys, and that he was one of the most remarkable students in the school. She was having a hard time believing me, of course, having been told for years now that Harry was a hooligan, but she did acknowledge that Dudley appeared to be much nastier than Harry. Dudley, apparently, bullies younger kids around the neighborhood when he isn't smoking cigarettes on street corners. She again demanded to know what we were doing here. I explained that during the days following the family's automobile accident we were dismayed to find that Harry was being neglected in this household. That the Dursleys were unhappy to have been made the boy's guardians and took every opportunity to let him know how unwanted he was. Of course, I explained, we couldn't let something like that continue. So we were taking the child back to the school where he would be placed with another, more loving, family."

Snape snorted. Loving, indeed. But as Lupin went on to explain, the woman had rushed off across the street to spread the word. Lupin had done as much damage as he and Black had done and the werewolf hadn't had to lift a wand. It was satisfying.

The world suddenly tipped and Snape nearly lost his balance. Using that much dark magic would be difficult on the best of days. It takes a lot out of you. Having done so while tired worsened his condition. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to apparate from here without splinching himself.

Lupin seemed to realize Snape's predicament. He offered his arm. The choices were either to stand here on the Dursleys' front lawn until he regained some strength, take the arm and allow himself to be apparated by a man he'd loathed for the majority of his life, or take his chances at splinching and apparate himself. He chose the latter, turned and apparated.

He materialized at the gates to Hogwarts, where he promptly fell against the fence. Black and Lupin arrived seconds later. At this point, there really was no choice. Pride be damned, he needed to get inside the castle to rest. Lupin once again put out an arm. This time Snape took it, accepting help for the long walk across the castle grounds. Thankfully, Dumbledore took over for the werewolf once they entered the school. It was he who escorted Snape down to his dungeon quarters where he would rest before preparing for the ceremony.


	5. The Rite of Guardianship

Harry was starting to feel nervous. Professor Lupin and Dr. Lorrie had just arrived with the news that the Guardianship ceremony would be starting soon. Dr. Lorrie was wearing robes different from any he'd seen the teachers wear. They were more form fitting than the usual robes, and she looked really pretty in them. Harry assumed they were dress robes. Lupin was dressed up, too. He looked much better than he had last year. His dress robes looked new and they fit him really well.

It surprised him that Dr. Lorrie was still here. Sure, she was a witch, but this was a school and she was a doctor. She had a job at that hospital. Harry figured she'd gone back home when he hadn't seen her all day. "Hi Dr. Lorrie, I didn't know you were still here."

"Hello Harry; please call me Kagan," she greeted him in her kind voice. "As for still being here, I have some news for you that I hope you'll be happy to hear." There was that smile again. Harry really loved her smile. It made him feel special. Maybe there could be a competition. Dr. Lorrie, or Kagan, yeah, that was nice, could compete with Dumbledore. The audience would get to decide whose eyes sparkled more. Harry would bet on Kagan. Her eyes were so pretty when she looked at him like that, that he was sure they could light up the sky.

"Although your Professor Dumbledore was amazing and fixed everything for me so I could return to work, he's asked me to stay on here, instead. Apparently the wizarding world has no healer-doctors, or whatever they'd be called. No one is trained in both magical and muggle healing, at least not at the professional level. He offered me the chance to stay on at Hogwarts and apprentice to Madam Pomfrey before doing a possible internship at St. Mungos. Isn't that great? It's an opportunity I couldn't pass up. Not only will I learn to combine magical and muggle healing, but I'll get to be near you, the most handsome young man in the whole of the wizarding and muggle worlds put together!"

Harry blushed right down to his toes. He prayed she hadn't noticed. Of course he knew she was just teasing, but still... "That's great, Dr...uh, Kagan. I'll bet combining healer and doctor training will make you pretty important to the wizarding world, and if you'll be staying at Hogwarts, I can visit you sometimes after classes.

"An honor I am excitedly looking forward to, my friend.

"Now, Remus says we have a job to do here. You have a big night ahead of you and we're to make you presentable. Your new father and your Godfather are both getting ready, as well."

She stepped back and Lupin came up alongside Harry's bed.

"Harry," Lupin said. "We... I... Sirius and I didn't know that James wasn't your biological father. I'm sorry."

Lupin seemed as nervous and sorry as Harry was himself. It didn't help him feel any better that someone he trusted was sad that this was happening, too. Being the son of James Potter was a very strong part of Harry's identity in this world. Until now, he hadn't really thought about what that might mean to Lupin and Sirius.

"We... I'd have told you before, had I known. Sirius, well, he's a bit shaken, but he knows that bonding you to Professor Snape with this ritual is best for you. He can't take custody of you because his name is not yet cleared. He wants you to know that he would if he could. You do understand that, don't you Harry?"

Harry nodded. His throat was feeling scratchy. He would have liked to have lived with Sirius and Lupin. They would have had great times together. For one thing, he doubted there would ever be a bed time. Well, maybe Lupin would insist on one, but Harry was sure Sirius would overrule him; either that or they'd sneak out together. "How did Sirius take it?"

"Well, you know Sirius, he blusters a bit before he thinks things through. It's lucky Professor Snape wasn't in the room when Professor Dumbledore told us or I think that only one of the two would have been left standing. But that is not for you to worry about. Sirius understands why it has to be this way and eventually, he'll even come around to accepting that you'll be just fine without him jumping in to rescue you and carry you off to some deserted island somewhere."

That didn't sound like such a bad idea to Harry. "But it isn't for the best! Snape can't be my father! Can't anyone see that? He hates me. He would rather see me dead than be responsible for me. Why can't anyone see that?"

"Wrong, Mr. Potter. I do not wish to see you dead."

Oh no. Snape was coming toward them and he'd heard. Harry couldn't help but stare. He was dressed in immaculate robes with a silk looking green cloth draped around his neck and down the front of his robes. It looked like he'd even showered and washed his hair!

"Papa Severus has other uses for you."

Harry cringed.

With that, the Potions Master turned on his heel and Accioed a table, which raced to him from across the room. He then pulled a tiny object from his pocket which re-sized into a large crate. From the crate came a similar green silk cloth, which he draped over the table. Next came a thin book in tooled leather. Harry could just make out the name: "Wizarding Rites and Ceremonies for Families". Snape set that on the table. Next he pulled out a series of tall, thin candles set in golden candlesticks. The first candle was red, then next orange, then yellow, then green, then blue, and finally, two shades of a purple color, one darker, one almost pink. He lined them on the table. Harry wondered what the colors meant.

Professor Lupin explained: "I looked up this Rite earlier. The candles represent energy centers within and just above our bodies. They are called our chakras. Have you learned of them yet, Harry?"

This was an area that always fascinated Harry so he easily answered. "Yes, we talked about them in Flitwick's and McGonagall's classes. They're the places we draw our magic from, right?"

"That's one of the fundamental differences between how Hogwarts trains wizards and witches and how I learned magic," Kagan put in. "Hogwarts trains you to draw magic from within yourself, to visualize your chakras and pull spells from the appropriate centers. I was taught to use those centers as channels, but to pull magical energy from the environment as much as possible. It uses much less of your personal power, and you can usually cast stronger spells because most of the time there is far more energy in our surroundings than inside ourselves. Only the most powerful wizards can pull enough from within themselves to cast strong spells repeatedly."

That made sense. Harry really wanted to explore this when he got a chance. It sounded like something he could use if he wanted to be an Auror. Heck, if he wanted to defeat Voldemort the next time he showed up to bother him he'd want to have as much power at his disposal as possible.

Apparently Snape was interested too. He'd paused in what he was doing to listen. However, when he realized Harry had noticed his pause, he went back to his preparations.

Professor Lupin nodded, apparently familiar with Kagan's form of magic. Then he continued: "The chakras are represented by the colors of the candles. Red indicates base power; raw, strong, undisciplined. It is the chakra responsible for accidental magic when we're children. Orange indicates a slightly more disciplined power. It is the chakra of creativity. It is where spell creators begin their work. Yellow is the beginning of self perception. It honors the fullness of what we are. Green is the heart chakra, bringing new hope and love. It's the reason Professor Snape is wearing the green sash around his neck and has a green cloth on the table. It's the heart of who you are, and who your guardian is. Next is the blue, the throat chakra. This is the expression of all you've learned. This is where you take things outside of yourself to use what you've learned to manipulate your surroundings. I believe Dr. Lorrie draws her magic through this chakra. The next is indigo. It is where we look past the veil of illusion, and reach awareness. All is revealed from this chakra. Then there is violet, the final chakra. Violet is the culmination of our time, place and being. It is indicative of our constant state of unfolding and growing."

Harry had heard all of this before, of course, but it was fascinating to hear it in relation to the candles Snape was putting out for the ceremony. He wished Hermione could be here to see and hear this. She'd do all kinds of research and insist they enter it all into their Journals of Magic.

Next out of the box came white candles, which he placed around the outside edges of the table.

"Those are for purity of intention." Lupin explained. "The purpose is to show that the prospective parent's intentions are pure."

Harry couldn't suppress a snicker at that one, earning a glare from both Snape and Lupin. Snape's intentions were far from pure. Maybe that would make the ceremony invalid. Harry sort of hoped so, though a life as ward of the Minister might be even worse than life as the son of the least liked teacher in the school. Or maybe not. It was a lose/lose situation as far as Harry was concerned.

"Snape. A word."

Harry whipped his head around to see Sirius poking his head in the door to the hospital wing. He grinned at Harry and waved before turning back to Snape. A lump he hadn't realized was there settled a bit in Harry's stomach. He hadn't been consciously aware of how afraid he was that Sirius would reject him when he found out that he was Snape's son, instead of the son of his old best friend. Harry realized he'd been practically holding his breath since Lupin mentioned that Sirius hadn't taken the news well. That fear disappeared when Sirius grinned at him. It didn't seem like Sirius hated him for being Snape's son.

"Black," Snape spat, "I do not have time for this."

"Make time, Snape. Before we go through with this, I'd like to talk."

"You have two minutes, Black."

Harry watched this exchange with trepidation. Snape glared at Sirius, but then followed him out to the hall. Apparently, Professor Lupin didn't trust the two alone together, because he patted Harry's knee reassuringly before he went out as well.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

"Spit it out, Black," Snape snapped out as he and Black squared off in the corridor. He really didn't have time for this. He was running on two hours sleep and an invigorating potion and he wasn't in the mood for a confrontation with Black.

As if that wasn't bad enough, it appeared that Lupin was feeling the need to play chaperone because he positioned himself between them and back a bit. That was fine, as long as it didn't become a two on one shouting or cursing match. It had not been uncommon for Potter and his cronies to engage in such tactics. It had been a favorite of Black's and Potter's back when they were students, though they rarely got the better of him. He could hold his own against Black and Potter together any time. Lupin had neither joined nor prevented such confrontations, and it didn't appear as if he intended to now. He seemed to be as content as ever to watch from the sidelines. That was fine with Snape, he just wanted this whole thing over with.

"I don't know how things got all twisted, with you ending up Harry's father."

"You don't know, Black? I could recommend a few books on human reproduction that could help."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, Snape!"

Snape was quickly losing his temper. "Then say what you mean. I don't have all evening."

Black sighed. It was obviously difficult for him to accept that Snape was Harry's father. Snape could empathize, he wasn't doing too well accepting it either.

"Look, I may have to accept that you're being made Harry's guardian but I don't have to like it. I don't think you've ever really grown up. You still act as if we're school boy enemies and Harry is somehow the reincarnation of James. We aren't kids any longer, and I'm not convinced you realize that."

"Isn't that rich, coming from you," Snape snarled. The cur had spent his entire adult life in Azkaban and came out as full of hatred as he'd been when he'd been arrested.

"Can we get to the point here, Snape?"

Snape nodded curtly, arms crossed.

"Harry is just a kid, a kid who from all appearances has been neglected, if not abused. He needs to be surrounded by people who care about him. In fact, he needs to be with someone he can call his own, someone who truly loves him. So far it looks like he's been on his own for pretty much all his life. I know you hate him. And now you'll be his guardian. I want your word that you won't mistreat him and that you'll try to see beyond the James Potter image you've superimposed on him.

"I would like to be part of life, as would Remus. We'd like to be there for him as he grows up. I would have taken him in myself in a heart-beat. Before Peter got away, it was our plan that he come live with me. But I'm still a fugitive and so can't take on his guardianship."

"It would not have been granted to you, anyway, Black. You are not related and the Ministry would have overruled your petition. I am stuck with him, whether any of us likes it or not."

Lupin hissed at that, but remained silent as Black continued.

"That's what worries me, Snape. He needs to be loved. He needs to laugh and play and be accepted for who he is. I don't see you providing that for him. I need your word that you'll allow Remus and I to be major parts of his life, to be there for him as surrogate fathers."

"You are welcome to do just that, Black," Snape responded, nodding at Lupin to include him, as well. "This guardianship will be in name only. I want nothing to do with the boy. You are welcome to provide him with all he needs, both emotionally and physically. You are welcome to have him stay with you when possible. You are welcome to give him away to whatever unfortunate witch or wizard he intends to marry when the time comes. I will monitor him to be sure the mandates of the Guardianship Rites are followed, but as long as he has what he needs, I need not be involved."

"You are cold, Snape."

Snape nodded. He didn't disagree.

"If that's all?"

"It is."

The three men returned to the hospital wing; Snape to his preparations, Black and Lupin to the boy's side. It was actually good to have that settled. It would free him from day to day interaction with the boy. All he'd have to do is make sure the promises he would make during the ceremony were fulfilled by someone.

Potter was sitting quietly for once, talking with Black, Lupin, and that doctor while Pomfrey removed the last of his bandages. Pomfrey bustled around the boy for a few minutes and then returned to her office, mumbling something about being back shortly to finish helping him prepare for the ceremony.

Returning his attention to his own preparations, Snape adjusted the contents of his crate. He again wondered if he'd done the right thing. The required gifts for the boy were of the finest quality. Early this evening, when he'd regained some of his strength, he'd gone to Diagon Alley to purchase the gifts. At first he'd chosen the cheapest, most insulting ones he could find. Before leaving the Diagon Alley, however, he'd had second thoughts and had banished those purchases. If he were going to be forced into this ceremony, he would do it right. He was required to give gifts to the boy, but what gifts he gave were up to him. He could be cheap and insulting, but that would reflect badly on him. Not that he cared what others thought of him; he certainly did not. But he did care what he thought of himself. And if he dishonored his family and his ancestors, he would be dishonoring himself.

His decision made, he had started again, this time going to the finest shops where he'd purchased more fitting gifts. It did not matter if Potter appreciated the gesture. He was not looking for Potter's appreciation. What mattered was that Snape honor his own name in this formal ceremony.

Snape was pulled out of his reflection when he heard Potter asking his fan club if he could invite his friends to the ceremony.

"That's probably up to Professor Snape, Harry."

Lupin was right. It was up to him and he would not endure this travesty with an audience of adolescents.

"No Potter, you may not." The boy jumped at that, apparently forgetting that Snape possessed extraordinary hearing.

"Why not, Sir? They won't cause trouble."

"The ceremony will begin within a few short minutes and will last a few short minutes as I have much better things to be doing with my time. You may see your little friends another time."

And that was that. For once the boy seemed to know better than to protest his decision.

) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (

Harry was angry that Snape was being so arrogant about the whole thing. He'd liked to have had his friends by his side. But then again, Snape was right in that the ceremony was about to begin, and he'd need quite a long time to break the news to Ron that Snape was his father.

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office and pulled a curtain around the bed, shooing Lupin, Sirius and Dr. Lorrie away. She quickly spelled Harry clean, and as he protested, brushed his hair. She cast a few more grooming spells, and then quickly changed his sheets. When she was done, Sirius returned. He handed Harry one of his school robes. Harry had been pleased to find that Sirius had gathered all of his belongings from Privet Drive when he was there this afternoon.

They'd all laughed quite a bit when Sirius had described the punishment they'd doled out to the Dursleys, but Harry was secretly sorry he was the reason they were suffering. They'd never wanted him, were never really given a choice in the matter. Yes, they could have refused, could have written to Dumbledore and ordered him to take Harry back. They hadn't, they'd taken him in when he had been left on their doorstep, but they'd never been happy about it. He was magical, and magic was something they feared and despised. And though they could have treated him better, he still felt it was wrong that they were punished on his behalf.

Just as he finished buttoning up his robe, Dumbledore entered wearing navy blue robes sprinkled with silver stars that looked a bit like a galaxy had shrunk itself, flown down, and landed on his robes. The Headmaster nodded at the torches on the walls and they immediately dimmed. Then he waved his hand at the windows, darkening them so the last of the day's sunlight was blocked. He pointed his wand at each bed in the wing except the one Harry was in. The other beds all scooted themselves to one side of the room, creating a large empty space around Harry's bed and Snape's table. It was a bit dark, but Harry guessed that was because Snape would be lighting all those candles on his table. It actually looked kinda neat in the hospital wing tonight.

Harry was still a bit sore, but he figured he could stand up for this if he was asked to. It would probably be more appropriate. In fact, he decided, if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

"Should I stand, sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore.

"Can you, Harry, without pain?"

"I'm fine, sir. I can stand."

Dumbledore stared at Harry from above his glasses, seeming to assess the truthfulness of Harry's claim. "Very well then, Harry. You may stand as long as Madam Pomfrey agrees and you return to your bed as soon as the ceremony is complete."

The Headmaster glanced at Madam Pomfrey, a question in his eyes. She nodded.

Professor Lupin and Dr. Lorrie helped Harry get out of bed and stand on his feet. He'd been confined to bed for days, and had just healed from a bad break in his leg. He was glad for the help when he stood, because he wobbled a bit. There was some pain, and his injured leg was weaker than his other, but he was standing and it was enough.

Dumbledore began: "All witnesses to these proceedings please gather around and state your names for the record."

Harry noticed a quill and parchment had appeared on Snape's table. The quill was poised over the parchment and seemed to be ready to write on its own. Cool.

They started on Harry's left with Lupin. "Remus John Lupin."

"Kagan Brianna Lorrie."

"Har..." But Lupin nudged Harry and shook his head. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to say his name right now.

Sirius smiled at Harry as he said, "Sirius Black."

"Poppy Pomfrey."

Dumbledore looked pleased. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, officiating. Will the father and son come stand side by side at the table and state their names, father first?"

Lupin helped Harry over to the table and steadied him at Snape's side.

Snape sneered at Dumbledore as if the Headmaster had asked him to do something disgusting. And maybe he had. Snape had always acted as if Harry were disgusting.

"Severus Prince Snape."

Lupin nodded at him now so Harry said, "Harry James Potter."

"Will either party be changing their name?"

Snape and Harry looked at each other before both turned back to Dumbledore and firmly answered, "_No!_"

Dumbledore chuckled fondly.

"By the power vested in me as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I will be officiating over these proceedings. Severus Snape, do you willingly put yourself forth as guardian of your natural born son, Harry James Potter?"

Snape seemed to be choking on the words, but he did answer, "I do."

"Then please light the candles of intent."

As he lit the candles one by one, Dumbledore continued reciting the ceremonial words: "These candles represent the child's energy centers. They indicate the father's intent to provide the child with a healthy environment, conducive to personal growth and emotional and physical health. The father starts with the red candle, indicating his charge's raw, untrained state. He continues lighting the candles, signifying his intent to take his new charge from the child he is to the man he will someday become; caring for, and nurturing him with every step along the way."

Dumbledore nodded at Snape, apparently happy with the presentation so far.

"Severus Snape, please make your vows as you present your gifts."

Professor Snape bowed his head in response, then reached into his crate. Gifts? No one had told Harry there would be gifts.

Snape pulled out a beautiful set of robes. They were a deep green, just like Harry's eyes. They were obviously expensive, and Harry couldn't believe they were for him, from Snape. He'd never had anything so nice.

Sirius stepped up behind Harry and helped him remove his school robes. Snape helped Harry into the new ones. This was surreal.

"I give you these robes as a token of my intention to make sure you are always properly clothed," his professor proclaimed.

The man reached back into the crate and pulled out a warm and wonderful smelling loaf of bread. It made Harry's mouth water and his stomach as a reminder that he'd been too nervous to eat dinner this earlier this evening.

"I give you this bread as a token of my intention to make sure that you never go hungry."

Harry gulped. This was already way more than the Dursleys had ever done for him. He accepted the bread, and Sirius took it to hold for him. Snape reached in and took out a book this time.

"I give you this book as a token of my intention to make sure you receive a proper education."

He handed Harry a beautiful, leather-bound volume called "Wizarding Customs from the Dawn of Society to Today." Harry accepted it gratefully, and Dr. Lorrie took it for him.

Again Snape reached down into the crate, and this time he handed Harry an amulet on a gold chain.

"I give you this amulet of protection as a token of my intention to shield you from harm."

It had a black stone set in the middle of what appeared to be runes. Harry saw that it was like the one Oliver Wood wore. He'd once showed it around the Common Room, and called it black onyx. It was a stone his father had given him for protection and healing. Harry accepted the amulet and Professor Lupin placed it around his neck for him.

The next item Snape pulled out was a silver disk on a short silver chain with a tiny silver ball at the end of the chain.

"I give you this Emergency Notifier. I will keep its twin in my pocket. If you have need of me in an emergency, hold this disk and concentrate on me. My disk will vibrate and heat and direct me to you. I give you this as a token of my intention to be available to you when you have need of me. Do _not_ abuse it."

Harry nodded. He had a feeling that last part was probably not part of the ceremony, but that was OK. The ceremony was way too solemn for Harry's tastes and he was really getting uncomfortable receiving a pile of gifts and promises from Professor Snape. It was good he did something in character to remind Harry that this wasn't all a strange dream.

Snape then looked to Dumbledore, who handed Harry a slip of paper. "I give you the name of my personal home. It is now your home, as well, should you need to go there. The home is protected by the Fidelius Charm. I bid you to silently read the name and address of the home and commit them to memory."

Harry was stunned. Access to Snape's home. This can't have been something Snape offered willingly. Harry dutifully memorized the name and address of Snape Hall. Snape held out his hand and Harry gave him the paper. Snape banished it. "I give you the name and address of my home as a token of my intention to see you properly housed as long as you are under my care."

Snape now drew a potion phial from his box. "I give you this nutrient potion as a token of my intention to see that you regain your health and maintain it." Harry took the phial from his outstretched hand and dropped it into his pocket, nodding his thanks.

Snape turned back to Dumbledore and said: "I vow to do my best in the raising of this child to adulthood. I understand that I may sometimes have questions or difficulties and will need advice. I vow to listen to advice from others close to the child, or professionals, as needed.

"If I cannot perform my duties as father to this child for any reason, I will voluntarily give custody of the child to someone who can."

Snape then turned to Sirius and Lupin. "I request that Sirius Black and Remus John Lupin accept the role of Godfathers to Harry James Potter."

Harry was again stunned. This made everything a lot better. He not only got to keep Sirius as his Godfather, but he would be gaining Remus, too. Maybe this wouldn't be all bad, after all.

Sirius grinned, but Lupin looked as if he were going to faint. It was clear he hadn't expected this, either. Then he too grinned as he shook Snape's hand. Then Sirius shook the professor's hand next. Snape looked like he very much wanted to wipe his hand on his robes after that.

Harry now had two Godfathers. Brilliant! He smiled up at Professor Lupin, his new Godfather, and both Sirius and Lupin put a hand on Harry's shoulders, with a still-grinning Sirius nudging Snape aside so he could fit in between him and Harry.

Dumbledore smiled and appeared satisfied. Harry doubted he had expected Snape to choose Sirius for Godfather, let alone Lupin.

"The demands of the Guardianship Rites have been met to my satisfaction. I pronounce Severus Prince Snape father and guardian of Harry James Potter."

Harry sighed. It was now official. He was Snape's son by blood and by law. It felt like world was beginning to spin out of control.

"Severus, do you have anything else you'd like to say?"

"I do."

Snape looked at Harry then, and said, "As I have no heir to the Prince or Snape lines, I now declare you, Harry James Potter, to be my heir."

The world really did spin out of control after that. Snape's heir? As in the one who will inherit his family's homes and fortunes if Snape should die? Harry looked around. Everyone else seemed stunned, too.

"Welcome to my family, Potter," Snape murmured with a sigh, just before turning on his heel and stalking out the door.

No one moved for a few moments. Then Dumbledore cleared the windows and turned up the torches. Harry was still having trouble accepting what had just happened. Dumbledore asked Harry to blow out the candles on the table. Harry did so, though he wasn't sure where he found the breath as he seemed to be short of it right now.

Harry fingered the fabric of his new robe. It was soft, easily the nicest thing he'd ever worn. The amulet was warm around his neck. The gifts were all obviously of good quality, and now Harry was heir to two more families. It was a bit much to take. But the biggest change of all, was that he now had a father. And that father was Professor Snape.

His good leg gave out just then, and his immobilized leg swung out in front of him as he began to fall. Sirius caught him and carried him back to bed. He was shaking pretty badly as Sirius laid him down. That was an intense ceremony and now Snape was his guardian. How would his life change? Would Snape interfere in his daily life- more so than usual? Would he force rules on Harry? Would he punish him? Hah. Of course he'd give him a ton of rules and punishments. What would he do to punish him? He was now pretty much at Snape's mercy, and the thought was terrifying. The more he thought about these things, the more he shook and soon he was having real trouble catching his breath.

Madam Pomfrey rushed over with a draught. Harry drank it quickly, grateful for something to focus on other than how drastically his life had just changed. It must have been a sleeping draught as he was soon feeling very sleepy. Dumbledore removed his glasses from his face and gently ruffled his hair. "You did well, my boy. Don't fret, all will turn out beautifully."

Harry fell asleep to the voices of his Godfathers, Professor Dumbledore, Kagan, and Madam Pomfrey talking quietly around his bed. He felt safe and loved. Whatever happened with Snape, he could always turn to any of these people and they would be there to help him. It was a good feeling.


	6. The Accomodations

**I'd apologize for the wait but I expect you're tired of hearing that. I truly am sorry, though, for what it's worth. **

**We've started on chapter 7 and intend to keep going at a better clip now. Don't you just love New Year Resolutions? Still, the writing bug is back and I'm thrilled to feel it again. The first ten chapters of this story were written years ago and are now being rewritten. After these ten we have a full outline with many, many, funny and wonderful plans for our Hogwarts friends. **

**We hope you'll stay with us for the long haul. Please review and let us know what you think, we'd really appreciate it.**

The room was dark. There were goosebumps running up and down Harry's arms. Something was coming. Harry could just make out a form in the darkness, a dark form, blacker than the room around him. It was coming toward Harry.

He began backing away, but he sensed a wall behind him. He was running out of space. As the form came closer its shape became more distinct. Harry's breath caught. It was Snape! The professor was sneering at Harry as he advanced on him, backing him into the wall. The Professor was holding his wand in his outstretched arm. It was pointed at Harry's chest. He had no where to go. There was no way out.

Harry sat bolt upright, his pajamas damp with sweat. The dream was so real. His heart was racing and the dream wasn't slipping from conscious thought like dreams so often do. The image of Snape staring him down with his wand pointed at Harry's chest was still very strongly present in his mind.

"Papa Severus has other uses for you," was still running through his ears. He doubted he'd ever get that out of his mind. The look Snape had given him when he'd called him "Papa Severus" was actually kind of funny, now that he thought about it. The man had been positively repulsed.

Now that he was wide awake he realized how ridiculous the dream was. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. What a stupid dream. Snape was a git but it wasn't as if he was afraid of the professor; not really. Sure, he could be scary as hell, but he wasn't known to go around hexing kids right and left no matter what stupid things they said. Even if he did routinely attack students, Harry wasn't going to take it lying down.

Well, not once he was able to get up.

"Mr. Potter," Harry jumped at the sound of the mediwitch's voice. She was striding into the room with a no nonsense attitude that he'd come to appreciate over his time at Hogwarts. "Mr. Potter, I'm going to release you this morning. You may leave as soon as you've eaten a decent breakfast."

As if on cue, a steaming plate of pancakes and bangers appeared on Harry's table. He threw a grateful grin at the mediwitch, then dug in with relish. As always, meals were one of the best things about returning to Hogwarts after time at the Dursleys'. If only Aunt Petunia could cook this way...

Before the mediwitch had gone far, Harry called out to her. "Madame Pomfrey, has anyone left word about where I should go from here, where I'm to be staying?"

"I am here for just that reason, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall was walking in the door. Madam Pomfrey nodded at her and retreated to her office. Harry was so surprised at Professor McGonagall's appearance that he nearly goggled at her. She was wearing a bright, flowered, summery dress with a matching rose colored robe worn open in the front. Even her hair was different. She had really long hair and instead of her normal bun, it was left to hang in a braid down her back. His professors' summer habits were apparently going to continue to hit him like a Bludger every time he met up with one until he got it into his head that they were regular people. They were probably really relieved to be able to dress more casually in the summer when there usually weren't any students around. It was kind of nice that they didn't feel the need to dress so formally around him. "As soon as you're released, I'll be showing you to your rooms."

"My rooms? Here in the castle? I don't have to go live with Snape?" The relief in Harry's voice was so strong he was afraid he'd offended Professor McGonagall. But no, that wasn't what had made her frown.

"That's 'Professor Snape,' Harry," she said. "I realize that the two of you do not get along. However, as you will both be staying here in the castle this summer, I beg you to try for everyone's sake. The consequences of an all out war between you and Severus Snape could be devastating to all innocent parties in your paths."

Harry blushed. They weren't really all that bad, were they? Did anyone really get along with Snape? Surely not. And the castle was still standing. "Yes Ma'am", Harry replied.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey came back from her office carrying a pair of crutches. She quickly shot some spells at Harry and declared him fit enough to go to his own quarters as long as he stayed off his bad leg for a few more days. She handed Harry the crutches, then pointed her wand at his leg and incanted an immobilization charm and a cushioning charm.

_"Hey!"_ Harry cried.

"If you are leaving here with instructions to stay off your leg, then I am going to ensure that those instructions are followed, young man."

"But I can't walk this way!"

"You have crutches for that."

Harry sighed. He hadn't expected to be on crutches. How was he going to get around if he had to stumble about on wooden sticks? According to Hermione, there were 142 staircases at Hogwarts. That fact had stuck in his mind for some reason. They sometimes spent an evening in front of the fire with Hermione regaling them with funny and unusual tales about Hogwarts. Maybe someday he'd read "Hogwarts, a History", himself. Then again, maybe not. That's why they had Hermione.

"It's only for two days, Mr. Potter. You've had a very bad break on that leg and it was aggravated during your uncle's attack and again during the Portkey travel. If you had been treated magically immediately after the accident, the leg could have been healed within hours. As it was days after the fact, healing will take longer. Magic can heal breaks quickly if they haven't already started healing on their own," she said, slipping into lecture mode. "When they've tried to heal themselves, your body fights against the potions that attempt to interrupt that process with their own brand of healing."

Harry nodded. It made sense. He supposed that a Healer of Madam Pomfrey's caliber would know what she was talking about. Magic really was fascinating. He chuckled to himself. He'd bet he'd had that same thought about a dozen times a week every week since he learned magic was real.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and handed Harry his crutches and a change of clothes. He shrugged off Madam Pomfrey's help and hobbled and wobbled his way to the loo to change. On his way out he managed a bit better.

McGonagall gathered his belongings in her arms, including his gifts from last night's Guardianship Rites. "These are very fine gifts, Mr. Potter. Professor Snape did not skimp on you."

Harry was surprised to hear this. He knew the gifts were expensive, but Professor McGonagall seemed to be saying that Snape could have given him much cheaper gifts, had he chosen to. Maybe the Rites only specified that he had to offer gifts, rather than saying they had to be good quality gifts. Harry decided to check the book Snape had given him the night before. Maybe it had this Guardianship Rite in it and he'd be able to check on that.

Harry and Professor McGonagall made slow but sure progress down to the dungeons. The farther they descended, the more nervous Harry became. He didn't really want to spend his summer down in damp, cold, Slytherin land.

It took a while to get the hang of walking on the crutches and Harry was sure that his Head of House had stifled at least one chuckle at Harry's attempts, but they did eventually make it to the dungeons. His rooms seemed to have been created out of the space across from the corridor that leads to the Potions classroom and by the stairs that led up to the Great Hall. Well he wouldn't be too far into the dungeons, that was good.

They stopped in front of a doorway he was sure he'd never seen there before. He wondered if it had always been here but had been pretending to be a wall until now. It had a beautiful stone archway over a solid, ancient looking wooden door. The archway was engraved with a lot of different animals. Harry didn't really look closely as he waited to get in. Professor McGonagall uttered a password under her breath and promised to allow Harry to choose his own before she left.

They walked into a large, bright sitting room. Harry couldn't stop himself from staring in awe. He'd never had a nice room to himself. He didn't count the one at the Dursleys' because that one was cold, spare, unwelcoming, and Dudley's. This room, though, seemed to calm him as soon as he entered. And at least for the summer, it was his!

The furnishings were comfortable looking with light brown woods and beige cushions with Gryffindor red lampshades and fluffy pillows on the couch and chairs. On the opposite wall was a sliding glass door with beige and red curtains. Harry had never seen a sliding glass door in a Wizard room before, but then, he hadn't seen many Wizard rooms. Really, he'd only been in the Weasley house and he didn't think they had one. This one opened to what seemed to be a sunny courtyard with a lot of plants and flowers arranged in small gardens. It must be in the front of the castle where the dungeons were above ground. The Potions classroom was on the opposite side and pretty much wholly under ground. Here, with the curtains open like they were, the whole room filled with sunlight. Harry would have to investigate the courtyard later.

Professor McGonagall led Harry to his bedroom door, which opened off the left wall of the living room, and stepped aside for him to enter. There was a standard student four poster in the room, some bookshelves, and a wardrobe. Harry's trunk was at the foot of his bed and Professor McGonagall set his other things down on the desk that was opposite the bookcases. It was under a large window and allowed a lot of natural light for writing.

There were heavy Gryffindor patterned curtains on the window. It was pretty obvious who'd designed these rooms. As if sensing Harry's thoughts, the Head of Gryffindor explained: "I expected you'd want some familiar Gryffindor items down here in Slytherin territory. Who knows? Maybe someday you'll take the dungeons over and stake it as a Gryffindor annex."

Harry chuckled. He could just see Snape allowing that. She then opened the desk drawer and drew out a large Gryffindor banner and held it up to the wall, looking at Harry expectantly. At Harry's grin and nod she stuck it to the wall with a charm and stood back to admire her handy work. "Can't have you forgetting who you are down here, can we, Mr. Potter?" she asked. They shared a smile and she indicated the parchment, ink and quills in the desk drawer. "You'll likely want to write to your friends. I'll send a house elf up to the Owlery to retrieve your owl for you, if you'd like."

"There are house elves at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Oh yes," said Professor McGonagall briskly. "They work in the kitchens, preparing meals. As well as cleaning the the students quarters, doing endless laundry, and stroking the fires."

Harry nodded. He had wondered who kept the dorm and their clothes clean. "OK, well, thank you, ma'am, that would be brilliant."

"Very well, then, I'll leave you to it. First though, let's go set your password. You are safe here in the castle, but everyone likes their privacy. The Headmaster and I, and the other Heads of House have access to any room in the castle for emergency purposes. However, we do not enter unbidden except in case of emergency."

That made sense, but he did wonder if Snape would abuse that rule. He figured there'd be some sort of revenge for the Papa Severus remark. He could just see Snape letting himself in to loom over Harry and demand he do a gazillion lines about how far into next week he'd be hexed if he ever called his professor "papa" again.

After setting the password to "Treacle Tart", Professor McGonagall reminded Harry of the midday meal and requested that he come to the Great Hall three times a day to eat. If he needed assistance, he was to go next door to Professor Snape's quarters and knock. Harry gulped. He couldn't imagine a scenario in which he'd be that desperate, and who's bright idea was it anyway to put him next door to Snape?

Just as she was leaving, Harry remembered something important. "Ma'am?" Harry bushed as McGonagall turned to him. "Um, where's the closest loo?"

This time the professor did chuckle, though she apologized and pointed out a door along the same wall as Harry's bedroom, one he hadn't noticed before. He had his own loo in his own rooms! Harry smiled his thanks and Professor McGonagall left him to his letter writing.

Which brought to mind something Harry had been anxious about and now had to face. How was he going to tell his friends that the Greasy Slytherin Git was his father? Harry sat on his bed. It was so much to take in. The whole week had been one long, wild ride and not much of it was good. Getting away from the Dursleys was brilliant, but at what price?

James Potter, the man who he believed all his life was his father, really wasn't. Everyone told him how much like James Potter he was. He even carried the man's name and inherited his gold and invisibility cloak. Everyone said that James Potter was well liked, almost a legend at Hogwarts. He had a Quidditch award, was obviously an excellent Chaser. They also said Harry got his broomstick talent from his father. But he couldn't have, could he? Because his father wasn't James Potter after all. And everything Harry had believed about himself was turning belly up. His whole life had been rearranged, right down to who had fathered him.

Suddenly, it was too much to take. For the first time all week, Harry was alone with his thoughts. And his thoughts were upsetting. Tears burned in his eyes as the whole mess that his life had become came crashing down on him.

Harry laid face down on his bed and thought about all the things that were screwed up in his life. He thought about all the things he'd lost, all of the people that had left his life. His mum, his dad, for James Potter _was_ his dad. He thought about the Dursleys, who were the only family he'd known for so many years but who couldn't stand the sight of him. He thought about how he was finally rescued from the Dursleys and was immediately turned over to another man who hated him just as much. He swallowed a lump in his throat and rubbed his slightly burning eyes. Despite everything that had happened within these walls, life at Hogwarts had been really good. But what would happen now? How would his life change now that he was Snape's charge?

He thought about how much he loved having James Potter as his father and how now his feelings of who Harry Potter is were all jumbled because James Potter wasn't really his father. He felt terrible because he had just denied James Potter as his father when the man had died to protect Harry and his mother. He'd given them his name, his love, and his protection, and now Harry was betraying him by thinking about how he wasn't really even his father. He thought about how he didn't understand how he could be Snape's son when his mum was married to James Potter, and it made him think of a bunch of different scenarios that could explain that, none of which made him feel any better.

He laid there feeling miserable for a good twenty minutes more before wiping his eyes and deciding that he couldn't change any of those things, and crying about them wouldn't make them better. It had been so long since he'd indulged in a session of feeling sorry for himself like that. The last time had been when he was a little kid, stuck in that cupboard at Christmas while his family celebrated together, but without him. He'd cried then, a lot. And that memory wasn't doing him any more good than the thoughts that led him to his breakdown this time. He wasn't bawling, but it was a close thing.

He stood up, grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the loo, which he noted was quite impressive, and splashed cold water on his face.

Looking around he saw a huge tub he could almost swim in. There were several bottles alongside the tub. One looked to be shampoo, but the others looked like they were stuff you added to your bath water, stuff like the ones Aunt Petunia had on the side of her tub that she claimed relaxed her. Harry hoped they didn't smell like flowers like hers did.

He returned to the main room and settled at his desk, drawing out a clean sheet of parchment paper, a quill, and an ink pot. He tried to think about what he was going to say. He'd write to Ron first. What would Ron say when he heard the news? Would he still even still want to be friends with Harry? Harry didn't think Ron would reject him for something he couldn't control. His friend wasn't like those pure-blooded Malfoys who thought that blood was everything. The Weasleys seemed to care only who you were, not where you came from.

Harry took a deep breath. If he had to find out that James Potter wasn't his birth father, why couldn't he have found he was part of a family like the Weasleys instead of the son of the nastiest man he knew aside from his uncle and Voldemort? He sniffed a bit and started writing. He tried several times to explain that he was now suddenly Snape's son and Snape was now in charge of him, but he couldn't find a way to put it down on paper.

Giving up, he decided instead to take a bath. Hospital wing cleansing charms were great, but they always left him feeling like he still needed a bath. He liked baths. They were great places to relax, warm your muscles, and think. And that bathtub in there was brilliant.

Harry grabbed his crutches and made his way to his trunk where he took out one of Dudley's old tee shirts and a pair of his old jeans. Maybe Dumbledore would let him go clothes shopping sometime this summer. He'd love to have his own clothes instead of Dudley's hand me downs. With fresh clothes tucked under his arm, he made his way to the bathroom.

There was a shelf in there where he put his fresh clothes, then he turned on the taps. He made the water hot...as hot as he could stand it. He always did that at Hogwarts when he had time. He loved that he was allowed to take long hot baths here. It wasn't too hard to get his jeans off, as they were pretty wide and easily slid down over his immobilized leg. He tossed the clothes, minus his belt, into the basket that was similar to the one in the tower. He was glad to see that it worked the same and swallowed up dirty clothes to be laundered.

Climbing over the high edge of the tub was an adventure, but he managed. Madam Pomfrey must have had a say in what bottles were alongside the tub because there was a muscle relaxing bath potion there. His arms ached from hobbling around on crutches all day. He sighed deeply as he relaxed into the hot water.

Putting jeans on over an immobilized leg was a bit more complicated than getting them off, but again, he managed. After tucking the long, wide tail of the massive faded green tee shirt into the wide waist of his jeans, he rolled up the legs and hopped over to his belt, which he then threaded through the loops. That done, he now had a big lump of excess jean material to deal with.

With the ease of long practice, he separated the material into several small lumps so the extra wasn't all in one place. The shirt was wide enough that it ballooned over the waist band of the pants and hid the extra bumps. He noticed a new hole developing in one of the threadbare knees and wondered if there was a spell that would mend it. Then he wondered if he would be allowed to do magic at all, considering it was the summer holidays and students normally weren't allowed to do magic over the summer. He'd have to ask at lunch.

Finally dressed, Harry decided to tour the courtyard. It looked so inviting with all the flowers and plants he'd seen from the door during his short tour when he arrived. Harry loved gardening, he just hated having to weed the Dursleys' garden so often. Gardening had always given him a sense of peace. The earth held so much life. A simple seed placed in the dirt could become a bush that would feed many, or a plant that would cure thousands, or a tree that would live for hundreds of years. Harry had a lot of respect for something that powerful.

He slid open the glass door and stepped into the sunshine. It was a large courtyard, easily the size of four classrooms. He set out on his crutches to give himself the grand tour. There were trees, a lot of different plants, and many kinds of flowers. It looked like it was well tended. Someone must come out here regularly to take care of the plants. There were stone walkways and some benches. The was even a stone fire pit in one corner with a grate that looked like it could be used for cooking. Around it was a table with an umbrella and some comfortable looking chairs. It was really nice out here and Harry decided it would be the perfect place to come to read a book. Maybe Hedwig could stay out here, too, though she'd have to go outside the castle walls to hunt.

After making his way around the courtyard, he came back toward the castle and his room. He noticed another door along the same wall as his room, one he hadn't seen when first came out. That had to mean he was sharing this courtyard with someone, probably the one who tended the plants. Professor McGonagall hadn't said he couldn't come out here, he hoped it would be okay with whoever lived there.

Then an awful thought crossed his mind. Who else could it be? It was a courtyard that led off the upper side of the dungeons with a door next to his own. There was only one other person that Harry knew of who lived here in the dungeons during the summer and that person had rooms next door. He quickly turned back toward his own door, ready to bolt, when a dark figure stood up from where he'd apparently been bent over, tending to some tall plants.

Startled, Harry jumped back, fell flat on his bum, legs skewed and crutches flung to his sides. He let out a very undignified "oof".

Professor Snape scowled at him. "I see Professor McGonagall failed to advise you that we would be sharing this courtyard."

From the expression on Snape's face, Harry could tell the man wasn't happy having Harry in his garden. He scrambled backward while trying to reach his crutches and get back onto his feet. He did not want to be at more of a disadvantage than he already was with this man. He'd learned early on not to turn your back on someone who had it in for you. Laying splayed out on the ground with a bum leg had to qualify, too.

Harry tried to stutter out an apology, but Snape waved it away. "Get back on your feet and act your age, Mr. Potter. Your mere presence likely offends some of the more delicate plants out here. Do try to keep your disruptive behavior to a minimum."

"_Hey!" _Harry yelped. Seriously, was that the only thing he could manage to say today?

"Articulate as always, Potter." Snape advanced on Harry and came right up to Harry's face, but Harry held his ground. Father or no, he wasn't going to let the man intimidate him. "As it appears we will be sharing this courtyard for a time," the man sneered, disgust evident on his features, "We will simply agree to stay out of each other's way while out here."

That didn't sound so bad. He'd just told Harry to stay out of his way, even sort of said he'd stay out of Harry's way, too. He hadn't told him to stay out of the courtyard.

Still..."I won't bother you out here, Sir," Harry said. "I didn't know it was your courtyard. I'll go inside."

Snape sighed. "You are allowed to come out here, Potter. Just do not bother me when you do."

Harry nodded and as he turned to go he remembered Hedwig. "Would it be okay if my owl spent some time out here, too?"

Snape nodded, and briskly turned away, calling over his shoulder: "Lunch will be served in the Great Hall in an hour, Potter. Do no think you will be excused from attending. Meals are not normally served in our rooms, even for the Great Harry Potter. The sooner you realize that the rules also apply to you, summer or no, the better off we'll all be."

"Yes Sir." Harry bristled, containing his anger only from long years of practice. He knew what time it was and fully intended to be at lunch on time. He still had an hour before lunch, he hadn't expected to be served meals in his rooms. Snape always had to find fault with him, even when he was just minding his own business and not doing anything wrong. He breathed a sigh of relief as Snape disappeared into his own quarters.

Once back inside, he drew his Journal of Magic out of his trunk. This book was really special to Harry. Every first year received one when starting at Hogwarts. It was a long standing tradition. The Muggle born, Muggle raised, and other students whose families did not provide the books could receive one from the school. Harry's was a school issued journal. The students who's families provided their journals often had really special ones, but Harry liked his just fine.

Whenever a spell was taught, the students were asked to record it in their journals. Other things were recorded in the journals, as well, and Harry figured this Guardianship Rite should also be written there. In theory, when a student finished at Hogwarts they'd have a recorded history of everything magical they'd learned here. Nearly every student treasured this volume and kept it clean and neat and used their best handwriting to record entries. No two journals were alike, as students were given free reign as to how to develop and decorate theirs. Hermione's, of course, was already very thick and very well organized. You could add as many fresh pages to the end as you wanted, so you never ran out of pages. So Hermione, who had already filled her journal full, had been adding pages for at least a year. He and Ron often teased her about needing to create a set of matching volumes for herself.

Harry's journal had plenty of pages left but it was fuller than Ron's. Ron was used to magic and seeing it used in all sorts of different ways didn't realize fascinate him like it did he and Hermione. Hermione went for her journal after pretty much everything. Harry wasn't so thorough, but he did add a lot more than Ron did.

Ron's might be the least full of the three of them, but his was the nicest journal. It had a dragon hide cover with the Weasley family crest stamped on the front. Many students had special covers like this. Ron had told Harry that some families, like his, had a special fund they added to for years before their children entered school. That way they could afford to get them a really nice journal when the time came.

Malfoy had the best journal Harry had seen at Hogwarts. He wasn't sure what kind of leather covered it, but the Malfoy crest was stamped in gold and the pages were vellum. Harry knew that because Malfoy never missed a chance to brag about it. His family would provide him with all the new pages he wanted, as he informed everyone within earshot whenever the subject came up. However, based on what Harry had seen of Malfoy's journal, his family wouldn't need to worry too much about providing him with more pages. He may know a lot of spells, but Harry didn't think he bothered much to record them as his journal appeared to have less than half the original pages filled, even after three years of schooling.

Harry's book didn't have a lot of fresh pages left in it and he figured that by the Christmas hols, he'd need to buy some new ones. Hermione would know where to get them. She could probably get them at a volume discount.

As there was still about 45 minutes left before was served in the Great Hall, Harry had a bit of time to kill. He took out the book Snape had given him last night. "Wizarding Customs from the Dawn of Society to Today" sounded really useful. Harry didn't know much about Wizarding customs, though he'd always been really interested in them. He was glad Snape had given him this particular book as part of his vow to make sure Harry received an education.

Sure enough, chapter 4 detailed the ceremony that had made him Snape's ward. It seemed Snape really had given him better gifts than he'd been required to give. Apparently the gift itself didn't matter. It was what the gift meant that mattered. The gift was a token and could be anything that was related to the promise. So Harry figured Snape could have given him an old, used quill rather than an obviously expensive book. And that set of robes were very nice. Harry didn't know much about fashion, but he could tell they weren't cheap.

It just didn't make sense. Suddenly finding himself Harry's father hadn't seemed to change Snape's opinion of Harry. He still seemed to hate him as much as he ever had. But he'd been decent about the gifts last night. Maybe he just didn't want to be embarrassed in front of the witnesses, though Harry couldn't see Snape caring what anyone thought of him. If he did, he wouldn't have stalked out of the room as soon as he'd completed the requirements of the ceremony. He shook his head. Figuring out Snape's motivations would probably take a team of psychiatrists or wizard mind healers so he didn't have any hope that he'd be successful at it.

During the ceremony, Harry had wondered why he wasn't required to take much of an active part. Now he realized how dumb that was. This ceremony was most often used for infants, because that's when children were most often adopted. Babies couldn't do much more than lay there so Harry hadn't been required to do much, either.

He carefully recorded the rite in his journal, including the list of gifts and promises he'd been given. He also made a note about how he'd been made heir to the Snape and Prince families, which still astounded him. He really didn't think he'd ever understand Snape, and wasn't sure he ever wanted to.

Harry smoothed the pages carefully before closing the cover. He always took special care of this book. It was the physical evidence of his new life, the life he lived away from Privet Drive. The life filled with magic and friends.

He slid the book into the top drawer of his desk, thinking of the year ahead of him and wondering which new spells they'd be learning. Every day at Hogwarts was a day of new discoveries. Wizard born kids grew up surrounded by magic. Kids like Harry frequently found themselves in awe of all the ways magic could enhance your life. Harry loved every minute of it.

If he was going to be on time for lunch he'd better get moving. He did a little hopping dance around the room, wondering how one crutch ended up on one side of his desk while the other was way over by the window. Once settled on the crutches, he took one last look around his sitting room, smiled at how at least this part of his new life was really rather nice, and went out the door.

It took several minutes for Harry to get to the Great Hall, and by the time he got there, there was only one place left at the table. Upon seeing Harry, Sirius stood up and met him at the doorway. His Godfather grabbed his upper arm and helped him the rest of the way to the table. Harry grinned up at Sirius. It was good to have someone who cared.

He sighed happily as he sat down between Sirius and Professor Lupin and dug into the ham slices and potatoes that Professor Lupin had piled onto his plate. Nothing beat Mrs. Weasley's cooking, but the food here at Hogwarts came in a close second.


End file.
